Guilty as Charged
by nivona
Summary: Santana Lopez is broke - and sick of sleeping on Puckermans' couch. High school is over, and she wants to get her life together. When Blaine Anderson offers her a place to stay she can hardly refuse.
1. New Beginnings

**A/N: I've never thought about Santana and Blaine together, but I **_**am**_** a hardcore Naya and Darren fan - so why not bring those two sexy beasts together in one story? This story just came out of nowhere; and originally it was meant to be pure smut, but somehow turned into a story ... The M rating is pretty much for the second chapter onwards (it gets pretty dirty from there, so watch out) ... Reviews would be amazing!**

"Open your eyes Santana." His voice is soft - silky like the ocean. I let my eyes flutter open. My palms are sweaty and I wipe them against my tight black dress, hoping Blaine doesn't notice the small gesture. He is watching me curiously. "What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing," I say coolly, looking around the small room. "I just don't know if this is the best idea."

Blaine takes a few steps forward, regarding me carefully.

"You're kidding, right? I mean, no offence Santana, but you're the biggest bitch on earth - you're strong, confident. What have you _possibly _got to worry about? Except maybe turning down the volume when it comes to your wild sex riots." He grins at me as if to say: _yeah, I know what you were like last year. _"I'll be honest, Santana: I'm dreading this idea as much as you are - but you need a room, and I need the rent money."

"Look mister," I step closer to him, "I just don't know if I can handle you and Queenie making out every night. Believe it or not, I need my beauty sleep. I'm not naturally this stunning, you know." I look away, examining my chipped black nail polish.

Blaine grins crookedly. "You mean Kurt? Look, if it makes you uncomfortable - "

"Oh man," I throw my head back and laugh. "I ain't got no problem with your boy love." _It's true, _I don't. Sex is sex - I don't care if it's a boy or a girl. "It's just, I've never shared a place with someone before, and ... " My voice trails off and, with a jolt, I realize I've let my guard down throughout this entire conversation. Normally, my defences are up. I'm Santana _fucking _Lopez. No one knows how I'm feeling ... Except Blaine Anderson, apparently?

Blaine's expression is knowing as he takes a step back. "Santana, accepting help doesn't make you weak - you need somewhere to stay, your own space."

"You're right," I mumble, looking down. "There's no way I'm spending another night on Puckerman's couch. Ugh." Blaine is quiet for so long, that I look up to see if he's still there. His palms are pressed effortlessly against the kitchen bench, and he is watching me intently. "What?" I snap, forcing myself back into _bitch mode. _

"Nothing," he shakes his head, still smiling. "I'm just realizing that living with you is going to be_ very_ interesting."

Blaine's unit is tiny, of course. He used to get rent assistance from Dalton Academy, but school has been over for six months now and his part time job at the book store wasn't getting him enough money. The thing is, I don't mind living with him. I don't care that he wakes me up at six thirty every morning with his singing in the shower, or when he and Kurt are up giggling until 3am. He's cleaner than me, so he's always running around cleaning up. Sweet deal, if you ask me.

It's funny, because I've never been more comfortable with someone in my life. Maybe it's because Blaine is gay, and isn't trying to get in my pants - or maybe, we just get along. Who knows? I have a mask - I wear it everywhere. It protects me from getting hurt, and after everything that happened with Brittany, that's the last thing I want ... There's no mask when I'm with Blaine; I don't consciously decide to be myself, it just happens ...

We spend most nights in the lounge room, sprawled on the couches, bitching about the ugly people on TV.

"So, what are you going to do with your life, Santana?" Blaine asks me on one rainy night. Kurt is in New York - promoting his new fashion line, so Blaine and I opted to have a 'crappy TV night.'

I drag my eyes away from a particularly dramatic episode of _Jersey Shore_ and look over at him_. _He's wearing grey track pants and a fitted white tee-shirt - it's a lot different from Blaine's usual preppy look, but it suits him, I think. He looks ... comfortable, casual. His hair is still wet from his shower earlier, and his apple scented shampoo wafts across the room. "What do you mean?" I ask, pulling at a loose thread on my blue boxer shorts.

"I mean, sure, you ruled McKinley High. And yeah, from what Kurt tells me, you kicked ass in Glee club ... But that's over now." He frowns. "Are you going to go to college? Surely you don't want to keep your crappy job at Wal-Mart."

I grin. "Hey, I fucking rock that Wal-Mart uniform. The manager practically drools on me, I'm so hot." Blaine laughs and so do I. "But seriously," I say quietly. "I just need to get some money saved up - that's all I need."

To my surprise, Blaine gets off the armchair and comes to sit next to me. I don't feel uncomfortable. I mean, he's _gay _- he won't try anything. "So you don't want to get married? Buy a house? Have kids?"

I laugh again. "Don't be stupid. I could never stick with one man for long enough, and kids gross me out. For now, I'm happy living here ... as long as you'll have me, of course."

Blaine smiles, scratching at some of his wild curls. "What about Brittany?" He asks softly. My face falls into an expression of surprise and disgust. "Don't deny it, Santana," He adds quickly. "I know what happened last year - you loved her, and she knocked you down."

I can't deny it - but I can't admit it out loud. I settle for resting my head on Blaine's shoulder. To my complete surprise, he leans into me. With a hesitant hand he strokes his fingers through my hair, looking down at me as if to ask: _is this okay?_ I'm constantly shocked about how comforting he is. Man, if he wasn't gay I might consider ... I shake the thought out of my head. "Look, what happened with Brittany ... It was just a faze. Sure, she's _fucking_ beautiful - and one of the most caring and courageous people I've ever met, but ... I have the rest of my life to fall in love, have passionate sex under the stars ... "

For a moment, Blaine is silent. "You know what I like about you, Santana?" There's a faint smile dancing on the edge of his lips.

"What?" I ask.

"You don't put labels on anything," he says simply. "Man, I don't think I've ever met anyone as laid back as you. Lesbian, straight, gay, bi ... You don't care about any of that."

I shrug casually, although - on the inside - I'm smiling broadly. "What can I say? Maybe I just like sex too much to limit myself to one gender." Blaine laughs loudly, and I wink at him.

_I think we're going to get along just fine ..._


	2. That Phone Call

**A/N: So this originally started as the first chapter - just a one shot. Then, the characters decided to go and make a storyline, but whatever. As I said earlier, it's pure smut. You've been warned. **

"And what are you wearing?" Brittany's voice is husky, and I can hear her breathing speeding up. I smile to myself, stretching out my bare legs.

I meant it when I told Blaine that I had the rest of my life for relationships and sex, but ohmyfuckinggod, I'm horny. Blaine is at the movies with Kurt, and won't be home until late.

"Well, what do you want me to be wearing baby?" I ask lowering my voice. I slip my hand along my stomach, stroking the bare skin.

Brittany takes a while to answer, her breathing is getting heavier. "I want you to be wearing that red thong you wore last time we ... " Her breath hitches when she giggles and she stops talking.

I chuckle, and my hand inches further towards my blue panties. In actual fact, I'm wearing a pair of my favourite blue underwear and nothing else. It's been a long time since I've gotten any action, and my god, I need a release. "Fuck San," Brittany moans into the phone. "I miss you, and your lady kisses and ... mmm."

My clit is throbbing, and I can hear Britt's fingers sliding in and out of her wet pussy. I cradle the phone in my shoulder and lift my hand to my nipples. I stroke them as I listen to Brittany's heavy breathing. She's drunk - and, of course, I'm going to take advantage. She'll pretend it never happened when she wakes up in the morning, and won't call again - but, who am I to turn this opportunity down?

"I want your tongue on my clit _right now_." The wetness is soaking through my underwear and I suppress a moan. I never let a guy know I'm too eager - that would be breaking the _Santana Lopez _rule. But _Brittany_ ... Brittany is different.

Brittany lets out a long moan and it pushes me over the edge. I can _hear her wetness._ I slide my hand into my panties, letting out a gasp when my fingers meet my throbbing clit. "Fuck, Santana, I'm so _fucking _close. I need to ... " Her voice trails off with a moan that sends shivers rushing through my body. I begin moving my fingers in earnest, thrusting my hips into my hand. My clit is aching. Before I can stop myself, I let out a moan. Of course, Brit hears. I can almost hear the smile in her voice when she slurs: "Oh, baby, you're enjoying this too. I should just come over and show you how horny I am." She giggles through her moans.

I gasp as my fingers slide over my clit. I'm so close to just begging her to come over and fuck me - but that would be stupid. _So _stupid, but oh so tempting.

"Tell me," I gasp. "Tell me how wet you are, baby." I just need to _cum. _That's all I want.

"I'm rubbing my clit," She moans into the phone. "Oh god, I'm so close to cumming. _Fuck_."

I can't speak, I'm biting my lip and my finger is sliding in and out of my wet pussy. _Oh god_, I'm so fucking horny. Brittany realizes that no more needs to be said. She's moaning loudly now, murmuring swear words every now and then. "I'm going to cum, Santana. _Fuck_, oh god!" She groans into the phone, letting out a quick scream, and I thrust against my fingers.

I gasp. "Jesus Brit, I - "

"Santana?"

My eyes flicker up to the doorway, and there stands an open mouthed Blaine.

I hang up the phone.

_Fuck. _


	3. Not So Simple

**A/N: So this story is developing at such a fast pace - I'll admit, I'm loving every second of it. Please review guys; tell me what you want to read more of! **

I'm frozen. My fingers are frozen on my clit, and the phone slips off my shoulder and lands on the pillow with a dull thump. Blaine stares at me, and I stare at him. My heart pounds, and blood rushes to my cheeks. For a second the air is silent. My chest is still heaving from my impending orgasm, and I notice Blaine's eyes flicker over my boobs.

With a groan, I pull my hand from my underwear and sit up. Blaine still stands frozen. "You act like you've never seen a woman please herself before," I say coolly before wrapping my blanket around my body.

"Well, I haven't." Blaine says dryly.

"Go figure," I mutter, rolling eyes. _That's it, Santana. Keep your cool. Defuse the situation ... That's the way. _"Not that it matters - with your gayness and all," I scratch my head, forcing every bone in my body to remain casual. Santana Lopez does _not _get embarrassed. "Now, do you want to stop staring at me and get out so I can put some clothes on?" I nod at the door.

Blaine doesn't say anything as he backs out of the room and closes the door behind him.

With a groan, I slump back onto the bed.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

* * *

><p>I walk into the lounge room with the intention of apologizing. I've shoved on a pair of track pants and a tank top in the hopes that Blaine isn't scarred for life by my nakedness. Yeah, I <em>know <em>I shouldn't apologize, and it's not what I'd normally do - but ... fuck pride. Blaine's a cool guy, and I'm living under his roof - I'm not going to mess this up.

But the lounge room is empty, and Blaine's bedroom door is closed. I hesitate before walking straight over and knocking.

Blaine's voice is strangled when he says: "I'm tired, Santana. We'll talk tomorrow." With a sigh and a shake of my head, I open the door. Blaine is sprawled on his bed with his hands behind his head. "What do you want?" He asks in a hard voice.

I place my hand on a hip. _Boys, they don't know anything ... _"Look, mister. You know me. I'm just going to say what I have to say, then leave you to it." Blaine simply nods, and with a sigh, a slump onto the end of his bed. "I _am _sorry for what you saw before - I honestly didn't think you'd be home until late. I'm not embarrassed and you shouldn't be either, it's perfectly natural. But, it won't happen again ... " My voice trails off and in a gesture that is completely unlike me, I pat his leg. "I really want this to work out. I like living with you," I say softly. Blaine runs a hand through that wild hair, and looks away. I frown. "Blaine ... I really _am _sorry."

_Finally_, he looks up. "Who was on the phone?"

I pick up a pillow and throw it at him. "None of your business!" When I laugh, Blaine chuckles, ducking before the pillow can hit him. Reluctantly, I let out a sigh. The thing is ... I _want _to tell him. "It was Brittany."

"Oh."

"What's wrong with that?" I ask, getting ready to pull my shield back up. _I'm not going to let him get to me - I don't let _anybody _get to me._

"It's just," he pauses, and meets my eyes. " ... Are you a lesbian, Santana?"

I get to my feet, shoving my hands deep in my pockets. "You've _got _to be kidding! Fuck. Blaine, I don't _know _what I am! I'm anything - everything! God. Why doesn't even matter?"

He shrugs. "It doesn't, I guess," he mumbles.

"Damn right it doesn't." I snap. My chest is heaving from the sudden anger, and I can't help but notice the way Blaine's flicker over my boobs again. I'm not wearing a bra, and this tank top leaves little to the imagination. I lower myself back onto the end of his bed, thinking hard. "You know," I begin slowly, "I wish I could be like you."

Blaine gestures for me to come up next to him. I move up the bed and rest my head on his shoulder without even thinking about that. It feels natural - and who am I to deny this kind of comfort? "Why's that?" He asks softly.

I pull away and look up at him. "Oh, you're just ... so sure of yourself, you know? I mean, you have Kurt. You know who you are. Fuck, I can't even decide if I like boys or girls."

Blaine chuckles, and reaches up to smooth some of my hair away from my face. This closeness should feel awkward after what he walked in on, but ... it doesn't. In fact, I lean into his hand instinctively. "I wish it was that simple," He says softly.

My head snaps up. "But it is." I object.

When I see that tiny doubt of shadow behind his eyes, I frown. "No, it's not." His voice is hard. "But, I'm flattered that you think that."

I fidget with a loose thread on my tank top, mainly just so I don't have to look in his eyes. "I don't usually do this," I mumble, "but ... If you ever need to talk, you know ... about things, then I'm here for you, Blaine."

I'm surprised when he puts an arm around my shoulder. He has nice arms - and they smell nice too. Boyish. "Thanks Santana, that's really nice. Surprising ... But nice."

I look up, and shrug. "Don't get used to it," I grin before standing up. With a shock, I realize that I don't _want _to stand up, I would happily stay leaning against him all night - but, I can't, of course. That would be weird. Not to mention, Santana Lopez doesn't _cuddle. _"Well, I'll go to bed. And ... Sorry again, for tonight. It won't happen again ... I'll put a sock on the door or something next time."

Blaine laughs and I turn to head out of the room. "Hey, Santana?"

"Yeah?" I turn back to face him just a little too eagerly.

"I like living with you too."


	4. Let Love In

**A/N: I'm assuming that everyone who reads this is a Glee fan. Or ... Just people looking for M rated smut? (I don't judge). But, I'm also assuming most of you read Dianna Agron's Tumblr post about the whole 'Likes Girls' fiasco? Or at least heard about it? Well, there's a phrase from her essay that I used in this: '**_**Let Love In.' **_

**So ... Yeah, I'm just acknowledging her in case anyone gets mad(:**

"I ordered pizza," I yell from the lounge room when I hear Blaine coming through the front door on Friday night. "And don't have a bitch, I made sure to get extra pineapple on your side."

I hear Blaine moving around the kitchen, before he appears in the doorway. "Thanks," He mumbles, looking away. His hands are buried deep in the pockets of his tight jeans, his shoulders slumped.

"What's up?" I ask, sitting up straighter.

Blaine takes in my appearance - I'm wearing one of Puck's old button down shirts and red boy-leg shorts. Sure, some people might classify them as 'underwear' but they cover my goodies, so who cares? My hair is still damp from the shower, falling in messy curls around my shoulders. "Jesus, Santana. Can you put some clothes on?"

I raise my eyebrows, refusing to let that self-consciousness ooze through me. "Sure," I shrug, standing up. "I was just making sure I could hear the pizza guy when he came, and these were already in the bathroom. I figured you wouldn't mind because your ... " My voice trails off, and I shake some of my damp hair from my eyes.

"Yeah, of course, you're right." Blaine shakes his head, but his gaze lingers on my bare legs.

My frown deepens. "Blaine, is there something - " I'm cut off by a sharp knock at the door. "That's the pizza," I say flatly. I bend over to get my wallet, with the intention of giving it to Blaine, but when I straighten up Blaine's eyes are wide. He lets out a sound that can only be interpreted as a whimper before bolting to his bedroom without another word. I stare at him. _What the fuck? _ The pizza guy knocks again, more forcefully this time, and I shrug before walking over to the door.

_I just wanted some pizza ..._

* * *

><p>Aside from that weird incident, things begin to regain smoothness. After Blaine walking in on me the other week, I thought things would get awkward ... But we're just closer. He continues juggling between working at the bookstore and seeing Kurt, and I just cruise through my life, taking each day as it comes.<p>

We fall into a rhythm. I begin to understand what makes Blaine tick, and which subjects to avoid. Although, I'm constantly amazed at how easy it is to talk to him. Besides, he gives great advice. Reluctantly, I told him about Brittany - and the phone call, and how drunk she was. He listened to my story, watching me intently, and when I'd finished, he gave me some of the best advice I've ever been given: '_Let love in, Santana. That's all we want from this life, right? Love. If you think that what you have with Brittany is _real _love, than just let it in ... Everything else will fall into place.'_

Of course, Brit doesn't love me. Well, she might _love _me - but she's not _in _love with me. She never did say it back, when we were in high school ... Why would things change?

I was getting used to hearing Kurt prancing around the house at odd times of the night, and - although, I'll never _ever _admit it out loud - I kind of enjoy listening to their hushed conversations ...

It restores my faith in real love. If Kurt and Blaine can make it through; than anyone can.

The thing is, there hasn't been so much giggling lately. It's late on a Saturday night and I'm just beginning to drift off to sleep, when I hear Kurt's raised voice. I sit up, yawning loudly as I push my hair out of my eyes. I can't hear what he's saying, but I know an angry voice when I hear one ...

I frown. I shouldn't be bothered, _but ... _I shake my head trying to push it away, although the thought has already crept into my brain. I _hate _to admit it, but I care. _But, but, but._ I cringe when I hear Kurt stomping down the hallway. Blaine's angry yell carries through the house.

The front door slams.

* * *

><p>"When Kurt told me that you had a spare room, I didn't even consider the fact that I'd <em>enjoy <em>living with you," I curl my legs under me as I collapse onto the couch. Blaine and I are each holding bowl of strawberry ice-cream as the opening credits to the latest Harry Potter movie play through the room.

Blaine groans and his head falls onto my shoulder. I'm getting used to his affectionate gestures - he's a touchy person, and I kind of enjoy that.

"Please, for one night, can we _not _talk about Kurt?" He asks.

I pull away, and watch his expression carefully. "Trouble in paradise?" I ask softly.

Blaine raises his eyebrows at me. "Gee, Santana, slow it down. I might start thinking you actually _cared._"

I laugh, nudging his shoulder playfully. "Don't get too excited, mister. You're a special case. But, seriously ... " I think for a moment. I've never been the kind of person to hold my tongue, but ... I want to respect Blaine's feelings. "I ... Um, I didn't want to mention it, but ... I kind of heard you and Kurt fighting the other night ... " My voice trails off.

Blaine's face pulls into a frown. "You see, Santana, when Kurt said you needed somewhere to stay, and I decided to ask if you wanted to share - I thought you'd never be around. I had this image of you - partying out all night - and you've completely shattered it." A smile flicks across his lips. "In a good way, of course."

"What's that got to do with - "

"Kurt thinks you're up to something."

"Is that why you were fighting?" I ask, horrified.

"No, no." Blaine shakes his head smiling. "It's just ... I think he thinks it's weird that we're friends."

"You didn't - " I swallow the desperate tone in my voice, forcing myself to remain cool. "You didn't tell him about ... You know? Walking in on me ... "

Blaine shakes his head, laughing. "No, I wouldn't ... I wouldn't do that to you, San." He wraps me into a quick hug. "You're my friend," He breathes.

I pull away, ultra-aware of the smile that is pulling unintentionally at my lips. "Cool," I say. "That's really cool."


	5. The Game of Truths

**A/N: I don't really have anything to say up here. Obviously I don't own any of these characters, blah blah blah. And thank you to everyone who's subscribed to the story! You're all awesome(: **

"My first kiss? With a girl?" I laugh at the memory. "Quinn Fabray - it was at camp, and we were thirteen. A bunch of older Cheerio's were watching."

Blaine snorts. "You're kidding? _Quinn_?"

I nod proudly. "It was a dare - and she'll deny it now. But, yeah. It happened." For a moment, I just recall the memory. I'd known then that there was something significant about that kiss - I didn't see anything wrong with it until Quinn told me how embarrassed she was. "What about you?" I ask, resting my head on my hand. "Your first kiss?"

"Aaron Lively. I was fifteen - and he was my sisters friend." Blaine's voice is simple - factual. "I'd known I'd liked boys for a while, but that was really ... The defining moment."

My eyebrows fly up. "You mean, you've never kissed a girl?" We are sprawled on the lounge room floor, playing the game of truths. There's nothing better to do on this boring Friday night - and Kurt hasn't been around for a while now. I've made sure not to ask Blaine about his absence; I can see that it's getting to him.

Blaine shakes his head, and lets out a sigh. "I'd never had a girlfriend - and, by the time I got to sixteen I just ... _knew. _I mean, if you know, you know - right?"

"I guess," I say, remaining unconvinced. "But, I mean, even Ku - " I cut myself off quickly, but of course Blaine notices.

"Yeah, even Kurt's kissed a girl, I know." He says in a heavy voice.

I reach out, and hesitantly take his hand in mine. Blaine's head jerks up, and he meets my eyes. "What's going on with you and Kurt, Blaine?" I ask softly. "I mean, you can tell me - you know that right?"

Blaine leans into me. His body is warm, and the gesture is comforting. I have to suppress a contented sigh. "You know, you've changed since you moved in with me, Santana." He says softly. "And don't even bother trying to deny it. The old you never would have _cared _what was going on between Kurt and I - let alone, asked about it." I can tell that he's just trying to change the subject - but, I don't mind too much. If he doesn't want to talk about it, then whatever.

"Blaine, I was changing before I moved in here. The 'old me' never would have agreed to rent a room in a house with _Kurt's boyfriend. _I guess ... " I shrug. "I guess I'm just growing up."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that, San." Blaine wraps me into a hug. I can't help but embrace the feeling of his warm arms holding me against his chest. "You know, despite getting off to a rocky start, and despite the fact that we are _completely _different people, I like you. I think I can trust you."

"Yeah," I breathe, letting him stroke my hair. "You can trust me."

* * *

><p>In the next week, Kurt comes over twice. First, on a Monday night. Him and Blaine spend a long time talking in hushed voices before Kurt announces that he has to leave. The second time, on Friday night, they get into a raging fight.<p>

Of course, I listen. I'm not going to _ignore _it - that's not my style. Yeah, I'm nosy, I'll admit it. I sit on the edge of the couch, trying to be inconspicuous as I listen into the raging argument that is going on behind Blaine's closed bedroom door.

Kurt's voice is shrill. My _god_, he can scream like a girl. "Don't you dare try and change the subject mister! Look, I'm not having a go at you, but you can't say there's not a reason for this! You were fine, until, until - " His voice splutters off angrily.

I sit up straighter, cocking my ear towards the door as I wait for Blaine's answer. "Look, Kurt, I thought you said ... I thought you said we can get through this!" His voice is soft, with a touch of ... _embarrassment? _

"I thought we could, Blaine, but _fuck_! Every night? Jesus! I'm _trying,_ Blaine! Can't you see that? I'm fucking trying! I mean ... Is it my fault? Is it me?" I stare at the door, taken aback. I've _never _heard Kurt swear like that.

"It's not you, Kurt ... " Blaine pleads. "I _swear. _I love you - always have, always will, you know that. It's just ... I don't know. I'm stressed or something. I'll go to the doctor, I'll get it sorted. I promise." My frown deepens. _What the hell are they talking about_? There's a moment of tense silence, before Kurt says something I can't quite hear. Suddenly Blaine's bedroom door flies open. I launch myself across the couch, taking up a casual position on the other end. Kurt eyes me suspiciously before storming out across the room. Blaine stands in the empty doorway watching Kurt go. I lower my eyes as Kurt storms out of the house.

_Man_, what the hell is going on?

* * *

><p>The house is silent for over an hour. Blaine retreats back to his bedroom, and I remain on the couch, unsure of what to do. God, since when do I - <em>Santana Lopez - <em>worry about other people's feelings? After some intense consideration, I walk over to Blaine's bedroom door and knock hesitantly. He doesn't answer, so I open the door.

He's sprawled out on his bed, hands folded behind his head, with a stormy expression on his face. I want to ask him what happened between him and Kurt, but the look on his face makes me bite my lip. After more careful consideration under Blaine's intense gaze, I say: "Come on, let's go to the movies."

* * *

><p>Three hours later we are sprawled on my bed, arguing over who was hotter in the new X-Men movie. Blaine reaches over and pats my bare arm. "Thanks, Santana." His voice is too intense for the upbeat conversation we were having.<p>

"For what?" I frown.

"For distracting me tonight. I can see you're curious, but you just took me out, made me laugh, and helped me forget ... So thank you. It means a lot."

I smile. "I'm happy to do it," I say slowly, "But ... _Do_ you want to talk about it, Blaine? You know I'm here for you."

Blaine is silent for a moment. He is pressing his lips together in a way that can't be described as anything except adorable. I'm surprised to see a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "It's too embarrassing," He laughs softly. "I just ... can't."

I shake my head. "That's okay. You don't have to tell me."

"Hey Santana, can I ask you something?" He asks quietly. I nod, and Blaine runs a hand through his messy hair. "I was just ... wondering, what's ... _it_ like?"

"_It_?" I frown. "You mean sex?" Blaine nods and I stare at him. "Haven't you and Kurt ... ?" My voice trails off and I think, _Ew, do I even want to know?_

Blaine nods. "Oh, yeah. We have. But, I mean ... That's not really sex, is it? I mean ... Like ... A girl and a boy?"

I stare at him, completely lost for words. How the hell am I meant to answer that? God. Why is he even _asking_? "Look, I'm not - " I'm cut off by the loud vibration of my phone that's sitting on the bed stand beside us. I roll over, and look at the name flashing across the screen.

It's Brittany.


	6. Losing It

**A/N: This is just a quick one, I decided it had to be short - otherwise it would get overly dramatic. So ... Yeah?(: **

I pick up the phone and look over at Blaine. "I'm going to have to get this," I say, frowning. "But, we'll continue our conversation later."

Blaine just nods, and walks out of the room, hiding his blushing cheeks. I shake my head before pressing 'answer.'

"Hello?" I ask wearily. I make a conscious decision that if she is drunk, I'll hang up.

"Santana?" Brittany's voice is choked - she's definitely not drunk. In fact, I think she's ... _crying_?

"Yeah, it's me." I sit up straighter, "What's up, Brit?"

For a moment, all I hear is her breathing, and the occasional sniffle. Just when I'm about to lose hope, she speaks. "Santana, I need your help."

"What is it?" I ask quickly. "B, what's wrong?"

Suddenly, she's crying in earnest. I bite my lip, unsure of what to say. "I did something stupid, San."

"What?" I ask, frustrated. "What did you do?"

She's silent for a long moment. I consider just hanging up the phone. For the first time, I don't _want _to be there for her. I don't want to listen to her crying into the phone. I'm sick of giving everything I've got and receiving nothing in return. That's how it's always been with Brittany, and I don't know how much longer I can take it. "Santana, I'm pregnant."

* * *

><p>My mouth drops. My fingers lose grip on the phone and it clatters to the floor. I stare at the empty wall in front of me, frozen with shock. <em>Disgust. <em>How could she be _pregnant? _God, I didn't even know she was dating anyone ... A thought tickles the back of my mind. I attempt to grab onto it, and pull it into my consciousness – but it's sneaky, and slips away from me effortlessly. My body protests as I reach down for the phone. My body feels stuck. I can hear Brittany speaking fast, but I hang up on her. I've heard enough.

_Why do I care, god damnnit? _I'm sick of this. I don't want to _care _anymore. God, I spent _years _of my life building my reputation of ice queen, only to let everything come crashing down because Brittany is _pregnant_? Fuck that.

No, fuck everything. I'm on my feet, before my brain has time to recognize the movement. "_Fuck_!" I yell. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I slam my hand against my wardrobe, letting out a strangled yell. "Jesus _fucking_ Christ!" My eyes glide over the framed picture of Brittany and I in our Cherrios uniform. _God, _we were beautiful together. With shaking hands, I pick it up, throwing it to the ground and taking pleasure in the way the glass shatters against the floor. In a fumbled mess, I shove on my leather jacket wrenching open my bedroom door. Blaine is hovering near the door way. "San, is everything oka - "

"I'm going out for a bit. Who knows, maybe I'll run into _her_? Maybe I'll show her _exactly _what it feels like to be hurt. I can't handle this anymore. _Fuck_," My voice is strangled, and I whirl around with the intention of storming down the hallway, but Blaine grabs my arm.

"You're losing it, San." His voice is gentle, but his grip on my arm is tight. "Don't do this."

I wrench my arm away from him with an angry yell, painfully aware of the tears streaming down my face. I slap them away angrily, letting out a chocked sob. "I'm _not_ doing this!" I yell. "I'm sick to death of getting _let down. _I'm sick of caring - of waiting for _her_! She's fucking pregnant. God, she's never coming back ... Why did I even love her? I put _everything _on the line! Fuck!"

Blaine doesn't say anything, but he grabs my arms, and pulls me into a hug. For a moment, all I can do is cry against his chest. I don't fight him - or try to pull away. I don't _want _to. Because ... I feel safe in his arms. He hugs me tighter, and, to my complete surprise, I feel him kiss the top of my head. "It's going to be okay, Santana. I promise." I shake my head to object, but Blaine just pulls me closer to him.

We stay like that for a long time.


	7. I Want To Hold Your Hand

**A/N: So I was watching this amazing movie called 'Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist' the other day (if you haven't seen it, then I suggest you should!) And there was this quote, and ... Coincidently enough, it fits **_**perfectly **_**with this story - so I just slipped it in. But ... yeah, this is me acknowledging that quote and such! **

Before Brittany, I'd never let my guard down with anyone. I mean: I'm _Santana. _People don't know what I'm feeling. When I'm around them, they second-guess themselves. _Fact. _But ... With Blaine, it's different. And, if I look deep down inside my messed-up, ice queen, soul then I'll admit: It's always been different with him. There's a _reason _I agreed to move in with him, a reason that we seem to get along so well ...

At some point, Blaine pushes me back into the room, ushering me into bed. He clears up the broken glass on my floor before sitting down on the bed with me. There's no boundaries anymore - no hesitance. He's hugging me, stroking my hair, pulling me tight against him. I hate the fact that he's seeing me cry but ... I feel safe. For the first time in my life, I _let_ someone comfort me. And, truth be told, it feels nice.

Slowly, I regain calmness. I stop crying, and bury my head in Blaine's chest. "Santana ... " His voice is husky, and I have to admit the tenderness sends shivers down my spine.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what?" I pull away, and turn to face him. "_I'm _the one who should be thanking you. Thank you for putting up with me!"

Blaine laughs softly. "No, thank you for showing me _you. _The real you. I think ... I think I needed to see it."

I look down at his hand that is resting softly on my knee. Without thinking, without contemplating the consequences and worrying about the outcome, I take his hand in mine. He responds immediately by twining his fingers through mine, squeezing tightly. I look back up at him. "Here's the facts, Blaine: When I'm around you, I _am _me. The real me. I don't know why ... But I like it. So, thank _you._ For bringing out the best in me."

* * *

><p>We talk for a long time about Brittany. Jokingly, Blaine tells me that he's going to put me in lockdown for a week - no potential interaction with her. He says that that's the best way to get over it. Because, the truth is: I can't be involved with her anymore. Even if I <em>wanted <em>to. She has a baby now; other priorities. I like the way that Blaine listens to me when I talk. He's not judgmental. There's nothing challenging, or bored in his expression. Just simple understanding.

Throughout this conversation, Blaine and I remain clasping hands. I've never been the kind of girl to hold hands - not even with my boyfriends. I _don't_ do romance, or sweetness ... It's different with Blaine, though. It's _more _than romance, more than sweetness ... It's ... Well. I don't quite know yet. "You know the reason that _The Beatles _were so big, Blaine?" My voice is husky from crying.

"No, why?" Blaine asks, raising his eyebrows at the sudden change of subject.

"_I Want To Hold Your Hand._" I nod down to our entwined hands, giving Blaine's fingers an extra squeeze. A smile flicks across his face. "It was their first single, and it was fucking brilliant. You know why? Because they _nailed _it. Blaine. _This _is what everyone wants. Not 24/7 hot wet sex. Not a marriage that lasts a hundred years. Not a Porsche, or a blowjob, or a million-dollar crib. No, they just _want to hold your hand._"

Blaine leans forward, and for one fleeting moment, I think he's about to kiss me. Instead, he presses his forehead against mine. With his free hand, he reaches up to pull my face closer to his. His hand lingers on my cheek, while the other one clasps my hand. Our faces are just millimetres apart, his breath cools my hot cheeks. "Who _are _you?" He asks me, smiling. "And _what _did you do with Santana?"

I'm surprised when a song of laughter escapes from my lips. "What can I say, Blaine? Like I said, you just ... Bring out the best in me." Blaine's smile is wide, and I let out a shuddery breath. "You know, I'm glad you're my friend." I say quietly. "You're ... " My voice trails off, and I contemplate the words that are about to come out of my mouth. It's so unlike me to be this raw - this honest, but ... I need to say it. "You're an amazing person, Blaine."

* * *

><p>I don't know exactly how it happened, or if anyone consciously makes a decision, but <em>somehow<em>, I end up falling asleep in Blaine's arms. He falls asleep too, hugging me close to his body. It's a blissful feeling being able to wake up with his strong arms wrapped around me. When my eyes flicker open, I see that my head is buried in his chest. His breathing is slow, relaxed. I sigh contentedly, stretching out and causing Blaine to stir in the process. For a moment, I just want to lay there and forget about everything. I don't want to think about Brittany, or her pregnancy ... Or _anything_ to do with her_. _ I don't want to think about Blaine's relationship problems, or the fact that over the past two week he's been giving me more mixed signals than a traffic light. I just want to lay here, in this bed, with this boy, and forget about everything.

So that's what I do.


	8. Killed a Man in Reno

**A/N: Okay guys, I don't know what's gotten into me but I've acquired this **_**awful **_**habit of writing 'Darren' instead of 'Blaine'. (Gosh, I wonder why!) But, hopefully I've fixed up all the mistakes. Although, if you find any stray 'Darren's' in this chapter feel free to let me know! **

"Don't be stupid, Santana." Blaine says, shaking his head. "I'm staying here with you. We'll get pizza. You need a friend right now."

I pull the old jumper over my head, shaking my hair out of my eyes and smoothing out my tight black skirt over my bare legs. "Look, Blaine. It's a Friday night. Go out with Kurt. I'm not a little baby - I can handle being alone for a few hours." At Blaine's doubtful expression, I add: "I'm _fine._"

Blaine just shakes his head, walking over to the bedroom door that I've just emerged from. Instinctively, I step into his outstretched arms. Feeling them wrapped is around me is like coming home ... It feels _right. _His head is buried in my shoulder when he mumbles: "But ... What if I don't want to go out with Kurt? What if I want to stay in with you, San?"

I pull away, completely taken aback. I want to tell him that that's weird. The fact that he would rather hang out with _me _than with his own boyfriend ... Well, it says a lot. I want to ask him how he feels about me, why is he acting like this? I want to ask what the _fuck _is going on in that impenetrably confusing, yet breathtakingly enthralling mind of his? Instead, I link our hands together, giving him my best impression of a smile. "Okay," I murmur. "Okay, if that's what you want Blaine, then we'll hang out."

* * *

><p>Armed with Strawberry ice cream and two spoons, we sprawl out on Blaine's double bed. I lay on my side, with my head leaning against my hand and watch him eating. He smiles when he sees me looking at him. "What is it?" He asks, grinning.<p>

I bite my lip. I can feel the old Santana creeping up. The brutal one - the one who leaves no stone unturned. The one who's not scared to ask _all_ the questions. "Tell me why you don't want to go out with Kurt tonight." I say softly. "Come on, Blaine. You and Kurt have barely talked since you had that fight ... What happened? You know you can trust me, right? Besides, it's not like I have anyone to tell these days."

Already, I can see that faint blush creeping across his cheeks. He presses his lips together, flicking his tongue across his mouth. "Look, I _know _I can trust you, but ... " His voice trails off, and he looks away.

I reach over, and place a hand on Blaine's thigh. "But _what_?"

For a moment, he stays frozen and silent. I push myself up the bed so I can close the space between our bodies. Blaine still refuses to meet my gaze. "Look, I just ... It's embarrassing, okay?"

"No, not okay! Come on, why can't you tell me?" I snap. Blaine turns his head, blatantly ignoring my question. His shoulders are slumped and his cheeks are red. He drops my hand. I sigh. "Look at me," I say quietly. He doesn't move, but lets out a low noise of protest in the back of his throat. I place my hands on his shoulders and turn him towards me, I move my face close to his. "Blaine, look at me." Slowly, his eyes move up until he meets my gaze. I'm surprised at the nervous flutter that arises in my stomach. I want to shake my head, and get rid of the nerves, but I can't. "You can tell me," I breathe softly. "You can tell me _anything_. Fuck, Blaine, you _walked in on me fingering myself - _I'm pretty sure I can handle a few relationship issues. Hey, I might even be able to give you some advice, for god's sake."

For one second, Blaine's gaze is locked on mine. He is biting his lip, before he pulls away, just enough so that the buzzing electricity between our bodies evaporates. "Kurt and I have been having troubles ... " He mumbles, closing his eyes and turning bright red. "In ... In the bedroom." He says the last bit in a hurried mess and I have to strain my ears to understand him. After he's said it, he groans. "Oh, god. I can't believe I told you that."

I frown. "You're kidding, right?" Blaine looks up sharply. "Jeez. The way you were going on about it, you'd think you killed a man in Reno, or something."

Blaine laughs and so do I. His entire body seems to relax at my words, and that easy smile is already back, hovering on his lips. "I'm just ... It's not something I'm proud of, you know?" He runs a hand through the mass of curls that cover his head, and I can't help but smile.

I shrug. "It happens to the best of us. So tell me, what are these 'problems' you're having?"

"Do I really have to - "

"Tell me? Yes." I keep my voice playful, but there's still that serious edge to it.

"But, you're _Santana - _"

"And you're Blaine." I say, grinning. "Look, I'm better than anyone. I'm a _girl, _I've been with other girls - and other guys, and I'm one of the few people who aren't gonna judge you. So, tell me Blaine, what are these problems?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I can't believe you haven't figured it out yet."

"Well, I think I have," I smile. "I think I figured it out a while ago ... But I want to hear you say it." _I _need_ to hear you say it_, I add silently.

Blaine laughs, looking away from me at the same time - the gesture is full of shyness. There's blood rushing to his cheeks. Maybe it's all the blood that should be rushing to his -

"I mean, it's not like I'm not _attracted _to Kurt!" Suddenly Blaine is talking fast, and I struggle to keep up with him. "He's one of the sexiest guys I know," I cringe but continue listening. "And that thing he does, with his tongue, when he ... " Blaine's voice trails off and he shakes his head. "What I'm saying is, it's not for lack of trying! And, it's nothing he's doing wrong, but I just can't ... It'll be dark, and we'll be under the covers, and there's kissing, and rubbing, and grinding and whatever-the-fuck-else you want to throw in there ... but, then ... " His voice trails off helplessly.

"Nothing?" I supply.

Blaine nods. "I can't ... "

"Get it up?"

"Ugh, Santana. If you're just going to be like that, then I'll go. I'm putting myself on the line here, you know! And if you're going to just laugh at me ... " His voice trails off, and he stands up.

"Wait, Blaine." I stand up to, grabbing a hold of his arm. He stops walking, and whirls around to face me, almost as if he's going to yell at me. Before he can though, I get in first.

I take both his hands in mine, pulling him so close to me that our bodies touch. His hands are shaking, and his chest his heaving. There's frustration glinting in those bright eyes. And something else too ... Something I happen to know quite well. Ignoring every screaming thought in my head, and listening to every urge that is coursing through my body, I kiss him.


	9. No Problem's Here

**A/N: There's not much to say here. Hopefully no 'Darren's have slipped out this time ... But yeah! Enjoy, guys! **

All I can think about is _Blaine. Blaine, Blaine, _Blaine. He groans, pulling me closer to him, slipping his tongue in my mouth. No hesitations. His hand is in my hair, while the other one sneaks around my back, pushing my hips against his. It's like he's been waiting for this for a long time ... Who knows? Maybe he has. Although the kiss is extravagantly luxurious, I remember that I have a goal. I've thrown my arms around his neck, but I take the opportunity of the heat in this moment to trail one hand down his chest, all the while keeping the kiss heated. Blaine is twirling his tongue in my mouth, sending shivers rushing through my body. Ever so slowly, my fingers trail along his chest. _Yes_, I'm enjoying this kiss immensely - but that isn't the point of it. Blaine continues kissing me fiercely, clueless to my hidden agenda. His body is grinding against mine - and I can see that he is fighting the urge to push me down onto the bed. I notice giddily that his lips taste of strawberry ice cream. My hand is trailing down his thin white tee-shirt. I can feel the contours of his stomach contracting as my fingers brush up against his abbs. I bite down softly on his bottom lip and he lets out another moan. In that moment, my fingers slip over the waistband in his jeans, and _there _it is. The button of his jeans is jutting into my thigh, the rough denim is straining against Blaine's hard _erection. _Yep, there's no doubt about it. He's hard as rock.

I pull away grinning, as I rest my forehead against his. Despite my best efforts, I'm excited - my breathing has developed into panting, and I can feel the pressure beginning to build in my stomach. _This isn't about me, though. _Blaine is breathing hard too, looking me straight in the eye. I can almost pinpoint the moment when he realizes that my hand is pressed against the bulge in his pants. A smile pulls at the corners of my lips.

"I don't think there's any problems here Blaine," I say sweetly, before extracting myself out of his arms, and walking out of the room.

* * *

><p>The next morning, I sit at the computer in the lounge room, looking up job's as I wait for Blaine to emerge from his bedroom. I don't want to become an art teacher, or work in an office ... I don't want any of that. It's <em>boring. <em>I want to do something _amazing. _Something that I'm proud of, something that isn't casual work at Wal-Mart. I want something that I -

I hear Blaine's bedroom door open, and I turn in my seat. The ready smile is already tickling my lips. My face falls when I see Blaine's expression. He's looking at his shoes avoiding my gaze. "Morning," He mumbles, shrugging on a leather jacket.

"Ah ... Morning?" I reply, slowly.

"I'll see you later." And with that, he hurries across the lounge room, and out the front door. He doesn't meet my eyes once.

_Ugh, _boys. _They are honestly so stupid._

* * *

><p>I work the lunch shift at Wal-Mart. I flirt with the balding manager in an attempt to get Blaine off my mind. I mean, he'd never kissed a girl, for god's sake! Of <em>course<em>, he's not going to know that maybe ... Maybe he likes girls. You have to try before you buy, that's what my sister always said. I've got ten minutes to go before the shift ends. I'm leaning against the register, letting the bored expression fall across my face. I enjoy watching the people shop - the way they interact. The electric doors slide open, and I turn to watch the customer that's just walked in. My head snaps up.

It's Kurt.

I smile sunnily as he walks over to me. He looks angry, but not quite you-made-out-with-my-fucking-boyfriend-last-night-bitch angry. "I didn't think I'd ever see _you _stepping into Wal-Mart," I sneer, looking him up and down.

He waves his hand as if that's irrelevant. "Look, Santana, you're a bitch. And I don't want to talk to you, because you make me nervous. _But ... _There's something up with Blaine."

I want to laugh and tell him that I know exactly what's _up _with Blaine ... But that would be just plain mean. "What is it, Kurt?" I ask, suppressing a sigh.

Kurt shakes his head. "I don't know," He's frowning. "We were meant to go out for dinner with my Dad tonight, but Blaine just texted me and told me that he can't make it." Kurt's eyes cloud over. Oh _god. _Kurt and his fucking feelings. "I mean, I wouldn't care, but we'd been planning this for months ... " Kurt's bottom lip is trembling, and his shoulders are tensed.

"He's sick." I lie smoothly. "He went to the doctors last night, and he was told he had to rest for a week. He's taking some kind of medication ... " I put on a concerned frown. "But he wouldn't tell me what it was for."

Realization floods Kurt's face, followed by an embarrassed smile. "Oh ... _Oh. _Okay, well ... Yeah. That explains it. Bye Santana!" He practically skips out of the store.

What a gullible idiot ... Although, maybe he just believed my lie so easily because that's what he _wanted _to believe. Either way, Blaine better get his shit together soon. _And who said Santana Lopez had lost her touch?_

When my shift ends, I text blaine: "You owe me big time, Anderson." Is all I say.


	10. What You Want

**A/N: So, like, at the end of this chapter, you might get the impression that this is the end of the story ... It totally isn't. I enjoy writing it way too much to end it, and I think, in a way, it's just the beginning ... So yeah. It's not the end. **

**And if this Authors Note doesn't make sense, I'm sorry. It's because it's 3:29am, and I've been awake since midnight last night, but, hopefully the chapter makes sense! Okay, enough rambling! I'll let you get on with it!(: **

I get a text from Brittany as I walk home. It simply says: "I'm sorry." I delete it with a shrug. I can't deal with her dramas right now - she's a minor detail in my messed up life. And, to be honest ... I have more important things to worry about.

Blaine doesn't reply to me. On my lonely walk home, I think a lot about him. The truth is ... I enjoyed that kiss. It was the best kiss I've had in a while. Maybe _ever. _I just ... I don't know what it means! Of course, I've hooked up with other peoples boyfriends before, but ... Hooking up with someone's boyfriend that is supposedly _gay_, and living with me ... Well, that's low. Even by my standards.

The house is silent when I emerge through the front door. I sigh when I see that Blaine's bedroom door is closed. The wave of emotions rushing through me is unnerving - I'm not used to having these kind of intense feelings for anyone. Shaking my head, I walk over to the bathroom. I think a nice hot shower is exactly what I need right now.

For three hours, Blaine doesn't emerge from his bedroom. I eat cereal and sit in front of the TV in my pyjamas. More than once, I catch myself staring wistfully at Blaine's bedroom door. I groan, and switch the TV off. What am I turning into? I'm not the kind of girl who sits around waiting for the guy to make the first move. I don't _wait. _I _do._

* * *

><p>"Fuck it," I mutter, walking across the room. I don't knock before I burst through his bedroom door. Blaine is laying on his bed with his headphones in and his arms over his face. I can't help it as my eyes trail over his body. His white shirt is tight, and rides up a little over his stomach. The skin on his abbs is tanned and smooth. I smile when his eyes flicker up towards me. Already, I can see the touch of embarrassment floating up behind his expression. He pulls out his ear phones and sits up straighter.<p>

"Look, Blaine. Maybe you're just confused," I say softly. I shove my hands deep in the pockets of my pyjama pants, and meet his eyes.

Blaine stands up, walking over to me. "Of course I'm fucking confused," I'm shocked at how harsh his voice is. When he steps closer to me, I don't move away. I don't move at all - he needs to make every move. It's all up to him right now. "That kiss ... _God, Santana_!" He runs a hand through his messy hair.

"What?" I ask. "What's going through your mind, Blaine?"

He hesitates, his body is close to mine - not close enough to touch, but I can feel the electric energy buzzing between us.

"What's going through my mind?" His voice is slightly hysterical. "_You. _You and your smile, and your laugh, and the way your hair smelt that morning after you fell asleep with me! All I can think about, is _you. _And the way you kissed me last night, the way your lips were so soft, everything is so soft, and ... "

"And what?" I prompt him softly.

"I've never wanted anyone like I wanted you last night, Santana." His voice falls to a whisper. He closes the space between our bodies and wraps his arms around me. "For a week, I'd been having troubles with Kurt, I _wanted _to be in the mood, and get turned on ... But nothing worked. And then you come in here all sexy and angry, and you kiss me, and oh, _hello_!" I laugh a little, but he shoots me an angry look. "Seriously, Santana ... I _cheated _on Kurt, with a _girl_!"

"Now we've established that, what are you going to do about it, Blaine?" I ask, twining my fingers through his. "Are you going to tell me to go? Because I will ... If that's what you want. Are you going to ask me to move out, because you're confused? Or ... Are you going to kiss me again? Have a little taste of what you've been missing for so long ... "

"I don't know ... " He says quietly. "I don't know _anything_ anymore_ ... _"

Although it kills me to do it, I take my hands away from his, and step away from him. "Well," Despite my best efforts, there's a touch of hurt in my voice. "Well, I'll go then. When ... When you figure out what you _do _want, I'll be in my room."

I turn away from Blaine, before he can see the upset expression on my face. The painful truth is, I don't _want _to walk away from him. I don't want to spend the night alone in my room ...

Blaine grabs my hand, his grip isn't tight, but it makes me turn back around. "I want _you_," He whispers. And then, he's kissing me. Just like that.

I don't protest as he drags me in closer to him. All rational thoughts are driven out of my head with that kiss. Blaine's tongue is in my mouth, and his hands are tangled in my hair, desperately pulling me closer to him. I push my body up against him, kissing him harder, and letting out a muffled moan.

With all the discipline I have left in me, I pull away. It takes a hell of a lot of strength, but ... I have to make sure.

My face is just inches from Blaine's. "Is this okay?" I murmur softly. "Is it want you want?"

"_Yes,_" Blaine says with no hesitation. "Yes."

* * *

><p>His is placing frenzied kisses on my neck, my cheeks, my lips ... His hands are roaming wildly around my body, and he lets out a desperate moan when I thrust my tongue into his mouth. God, <em>I <em>want this. I've been denying it for so long, but ... Fuck. I want it so bad.

Without breaking the kiss, Blaine pulls me onto the bed, and we fall onto it, keeping a tight hold on each other. I smile when I feel Blaine's hips straining hard against mine, when I feel the throbbing bulge in his jeans pressing between my legs. I roll him over, so I am straddling him as I kiss his delicious lips. His body is grinding against mine, and I can feel that he is desperate for more of a connection - I don't say anything though, I'll take this at his speed. His hands grip my hips, and slowly make their way under my tank top. His movements are bold - full of desperation. There's no time for nerves. I slip my tongue over his tongue, enjoying the rush of thrills it sends to my lower body. His fingers are inching along my bra, almost as if he's unsure of what to do with it ... I suppose he's not.

I pull away, breathing hard. "Do you want me to take it off?"

He nods wordlessly, and within seconds my pink bra is sprawled at the bottom of my bed and Blaine's fingers are hesitantly stroking my nipples under my tank top. I ache for harder contact, but I don't push him. I continue kissing him fervently, thrusting my hips against his, forcing him to kiss me harder. I suck on his bottom lip, letting out an unintentional giggle. I can feel him smiling as he gently caresses my boobs.

"So ... Soft." He moans, straining his hips harder against mine. "So ... Beautiful."

I smile at his inability to speak proper sentences, and push harder against him. He is moaning in earnest now, every time the hard bulge in his pants rubs between my thighs. I'm thrusting against him as we kiss, moving faster, pushing him closer to the edge.

To my complete surprise, he flips me over, so he is on top of me, pushing his body hard against mine, kissing me ferociously. I don't object when he drags my tank top over my shoulders, and presses his lips against my nipple, letting out a moan as he does. I pull his face back up to my lips, pulling his own shirt over his head as I do.

"It's only fair," I pant, before continuing the desperate kiss. Blaine moans at the feeling of his bare chest rubbing against my breasts. I let my hands trail down his back, forcing his hips to strain against mine. His body begins to move rhythmically, as I throw my legs around his back. Pulling him even tighter against me. Although we are both wearing pants, the friction between us is unbelievable. I've never felt anything like this before.

"I ... Can't - " He moans into my neck, unable to finish his sentence.

I pull away, looking him in the eye. "Can't what?" I ask seriously. If he wants to stop, I'll stop. Sure, I'll be left incredibly horny, but if that's what he wants ...

"I can't _stop_," He gasps, shoving his body hard against mine. The bulge in his jeans is hard as rock against my cotton pyjama pants, grinding hard against me. I pull him into a desperate kiss, running my hands through his hair. He continues rubbing hard against my body, and a desperate groan escapes his throat. "Santana, I'm ... Going to," He kisses me hard, thrusting against me, shoving his hips into mine, grabbing my boobs in his hands. I pull him against me, scraping my fingernails down his back, thrusting my hips up to meet his desperate movements. He lets out a groan that sends shivers rushing through my body, and slumps against me kissing me softly, lazily slipping his tongue in my mouth. I smile to myself. If I didn't know better, I would say he just ...

His head snaps up, there's still a giddy smile on his face, but he says: "I'm just going to put some different pants on."

I laugh out loud as I watch his bare back retreat from the room. Sure, maybe I didn't get my big finish, but there's a first time for everything, and besides ... I'm patient.

When Blaine returns to the bedroom, his chest is still bare, but he's donned a pair of black track pants. He smiles when he sees my eyes hungrily lapping up his bare chest and tan shoulders, although, there's still a touch of embarrassment behind his expression. "Sorry, I - "

"Don't worry about it," I shrug, reaching out and pulling him onto the bed. "You enjoyed it - that was your way of showing it. I enjoyed it too."

He raises his eyebrows. "You did?"

I nod, leaning in to kiss him just lightly on the lips. "More than you can imagine," I say huskily.

"You didn't ... too, did you?" He asks, shocked. "You know ... "

I laugh. "Did I cum? No. Trust me, Blaine. You'd know if I did."

Blaine frowns. "I'm sorry ... That's hardly fair."

I shake my head, leaning against his chest. His arm wraps around my shoulder, and he plays with a strand of my hair. "It's okay," I say softly. "It's okay ... " I let out a sleepy yawn, and Blaine pulls me tighter to him.

I lay against his warm chest, and let myself drift off into a world of blissful dreams ...


	11. The Only Exception

**A/N: First of all, thanks for the lovely reviews guys - keep 'em coming! I'm assuming all you subscribers are liking the way the story is going? If there's anything in particular you want me to write about, I'm happy to take requests, or whatever! **

When I wake up, Blaine is humming softly. I smile to myself as I yawn loudly and stretch against his bare chest. He laughs, when I look up at him. "Morning Santana," He says softly.

I want to reach up, and kiss him, and tell him how much I _enjoy _kissing him ... But I can't. Instead, I settle for a sleepy: "Good morning." Blaine is silent for a long moment and I can see that he's thinking some serious thoughts. "What's up?" I ask.

"I should break things off with Kurt," He says suddenly. "At least ... At least until I've figured things out."

I sit up straighter, pushing my hair out of my eyes. _It's too early for serious conversations like this ... _"Is that what you want?" I ask.

He frowns. "I want you ... But, I don't want to hurt Kurt."

"Okay," I shake my head. "What I should be asking is: Do you want to keep doing _this_? You know, hooking up? Because if the answer is yes, you definitely have to talk to Kurt, if not ... " My voice trails off and I realize, I don't want to think about what will happen if Blaine doesn't want to continue this ... Whatever it is.

"I want more kissing." He kisses my nose, "And I want more of what happened last night," His lips find my cheeks. "And I want _you ... _Before you, I'd seen a lot of girls topless - outfit changes behind curtain at the musicals I've done, at the pool, the beach ... It meant nothing, because I was _gay _right? I wasn't interested. But, I remember just after you first moved in, and I walked in on you ... yeah." He's blushing, and so am I. "And you were nearly naked, and ... and ... " His voice trails off.

"And what?" I ask, tracing my fingers along his bare chest.

"And it was _amazing_," He breathes. "When you came into my room afterwards to apologize, I had to hide how turned on I was ... "

"Has it ever happened before? I mean, with any other girls?"

Blaine shakes his head. "Only you, Santana. I don't know why, but you're the only exception."

I suppress the beaming smile that burns up inside of me. I don't think he realizes how much I enjoy that confession. "Well, I have to say, Blaine, for someone who'd never kissed a girl in his entire life, you did a pretty good job."

"Really?" He asks, happily. I nod, smiling. "Can I ... " He pauses. "Can I kiss you again?"

I can't help it when the smile breaks across my lips. "I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

><p>It takes a lot of discipline to pull myself away and let him go to work. I can see that he would much rather stay in bed with me all day too, but we have to get on with our lives ... Besides, I need some time to myself so I can <em>think. <em>

Turns out, there's not a lot to think about. I have a shower, and I realize ... This can be simple - for the both of us. I don't want any messy feelings to get in the way, because ... Blaine _might _be gay. This could just be a faze. It was his first time being with a girl, of course he's going to get excited ... So, it'll just have to be a physical relationship. No dating, no 'love.' I'm not going to let myself get hurt. It'll be just ... Sex. Well, if he ever wants to go that far ...

I know I do.

And if he expects us to keep hooking up, he's going to have to learn how to please a woman - because that's only fair. I need to get some fun out of this too.

It gets to late afternoon, and I realize I've done nothing all day except moon over Blaine. _God_, I've never had this issue before, I've never _needed _a man like a need Blaine. To get my mind off things, I clean the house. Blaine is always complaining about how messy I am, so I may as well prove him wrong - and get him off my mind in the process.

* * *

><p>I've put a load of washing on, vacuumed the lounge room floor, and I'm filling the sink up with soapy hot water when my thoughts stray again. The memory of last night flickers across my mind, and I shove it away angrily. I don't <em>like <em>being vulnerable - I don't like having feelings.

I immerse my hands in the soapy water, enjoying the heat that bites at my fingers. I let the water flow against my hands, and begin washing up. Every time my thoughts begin to stray, I force my concentration on the washing up. It's good to concentrate on the simple feeling of water on skin - it's so nice, calming. I think -

With a jolt, someone wraps their arms around my waist, and I scream. As I whirl around, I manage to soak myself with hot water. It's only then I see that it's Blaine who is chuckling softly, pulling me closer to him. He laughs when he sees the angry glint in my eyes.

"I'm sorry," He says softly. "I didn't mean to scare you." He leans into kiss me, and I get caught up in the moment, falling into his warm lips. He kisses me softly, and I can feel him smiling against me. His lips are firm, as the brush up against mine.

_Finally_, my brain wakes up, and I pull away, shoving him playfully. "Look at what you made me do!" I gesture to my wet shirt.

Blaine laughs. "Oh, I'm sure you'll live, San." He grins.

"Oh really?" I raise an eyebrow at him, "Because I was thinking of ... _payback_!" I flick some soapy water at him. And he jerks away, laughing as the warm water splashes his face.

"Is that how we're going to play it?" He asks, moving in closer to me.

"Uh huh!" I giggle, inching away from him. My hand searches blindly for the water jug behind my back, and Blaine approaches. He jumps forward, and I squeal, splashing warm soapy water over both of us. Blaine throws his arms around my waist, lifting me up onto the kitchen bench. There's water dripping from his curly hair, and his shoulders are soaked.

He is laughing and his head is buried in my neck, kissing me wildly. "Look, you've gone and got us all wet now," His voice is husky, and a little too intense for the playfulness of the moment.

I wrap my legs around his waist. The wet kitchen bench is soaking through my black skirt, but I don't care. I reach out to wipe some soap off Blaine's forehead. He smiles. "Hey you," I murmur quietly.

"Hey." Blaine kisses me softly, and I place both hands on his cheeks, pulling him in for a hungrier kiss. He responds immediately, pulling my body closer to his, using the bench as leverage. His hands trace along my back, and his tongue flicks across my lips.

He is chuckling softly when he pulls away from me and says: "I was thinking ... "

"Oh god, that's never a good thing." I laugh, and Blaine shoots me a dirty look. "Okay," I murmur, my lips moving against his. "What were you thinking, Blaine?"

"I want to ... " He looks down at his hands that are now resting on my bare thighs. "I want to ... make things up to you ... For last night." His fingers stroke the bare skin, sending thrills bouncing through my body.

I grin. "What did you have in mind?"

"I want you to teach me how to ... " His voice trails off.

"How to ... ?"

"Touch you." He blushes furiously.

I smile to myself. _This could be fun ... _


	12. Firsts

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter sucks, I wrote it in a hurry! I have a feeling you'll enjoy it anyway, though(: **

For the first time since this entire _thing _began, I find myself wondering ... How am I going to go about this? Do I have to ... _teach _him?

"Have you ever ... " Blaine is pressing up against up against me, and I find myself having trouble speaking coherently. "God, have you ever even _seen _a ... " My voice trails off and a nervous giggle escapes my lips.

Blaine nods. "Yeah, but I've never ... " He clears his throat. "I've never _wanted _to see one."

I'm surprised to realize that my own hand is shaking, as I take Blaine's in mine. He swallows hard, keeping his gaze locked on mine. Very slowly, I pull Blaine's hand over the rough material of my skirt, sliding it further and further upwards. I ache for a firmer touch, but I force myself to keep my pace slow.

Blaine's fingers are stroking me through the material of my skirt, searching ... exploring. I let go of his hand, letting him feel the rest of the way up my leg. I pull him closer towards me, pressing my lips against his, slipping my tongue into his mouth, desperately pressing my body against his. His hand grips my thigh, slowly sliding further up between my legs. I gasp as his curious fingers begin rubbing me through my skirt. He lets out a throaty moan, and pulls away from my desperate kiss. "Am I doing it right?" He asks nervously.

I throw my arms around his neck, planting kisses on his lips, his neck, his wet shoulders. "Yes," I gasp. "Take me to the bedroom."

* * *

><p>We don't break our kiss during the trip from the messy kitchen to Blaine's bedroom. We stumble across the room, and I peel Blaine's soaked shirt from his shoulders, kissing him eagerly. He moans, pulling my own wet shirt over my shoulders, only breaking the kiss to get the soaked material over my head. We collapse onto the bed, laughing and kissing. Blaine's hands are more confident now, as they travel along my body. One hand his tangled in my hair, while the other frantically roams from my back to between my thighs. I moan as he props himself above my body. I can feel the lump in his pants rubbing against my leg, but I ignore it ... This is about teaching him. Teaching him about <em>me. <em>

His fingers are curious as they push the material of my skirt up above my bare stomach. He pulls away, and looks down at my silky black underwear. He groans.

"Oh god ... " He gasps. I pull his lips up to meet mine, and he continues rubbing between my legs. I want to tell him to move faster, I can feel the throbbing beginning, just aching for his fingers to relieve it. I thrust my hips up to meet his fingers, hoping to give him the message. He pulls away from the kiss again, breathing hard. "Do you want me to ... " His fingers inch along the top of my underwear. I shiver under his touch.

"If you want," I gasp.

"I do," Blaine kisses me desperately. "_Yes_ ... " Although I can see him swallowing his arousal, his fingers are shaking as they slip underneath the silk of my underwear.

He groans, and his body seems to take over. I expect him to be flustered and ask what to do next, but his finger slips into me as if he's always known what to do. I let out an involuntary groan.

He kisses me carefully, smiling as he explores the wetness between my legs. I grab his head, pulling his lips harder against mine, thrusting my tongue in his mouth, running my fingers through his hair. He is smiling.

His fingers brush over my clit, and I gasp. He pulls away, eyes wide. "Did I hurt you?"

I shake my head, wordlessly. "No ... no." I groan, as his fingers find that magic spot again. "_There_." I gasp.

He smiles, and begins rubbing me softly, I sigh, and bury my face on his neck. I grip his shoulders, enjoying the sensation of the muscles rippling under his skin. I push my hips up to meet his fingers, and he begins moving faster. Blaine is laughing, and I look up at him. "I like this," He murmurs, leaning down to kiss me.

"Me too," I kiss him fiercely, and he moves his fingers against me faster. I give him a little assistance, by straining my hips to meet his fingers. There's no questions, or talking about what's happening. I simply kiss Blaine with everything I have and his finger slips inside of me, moving fast. The tension in my body seems to snap, as Blaine's fingers rub hard against me.

"Oh ... _Blaine_!" I scream, biting into his shoulder. My body shudders against his, and I let the waves of ecstasy roll through me. I pull him into a long, leisurely kiss.

"Was that ... ?" His voice trails off shyly. "An _orgasm_?" His eyes are wide.

It takes me a moment to regain my breath back, and I lay slumped against the bed, my hands trailing down Blaine's back.

"Yep," I chuckle softly, "That's exactly what it was, Blaine."

"Wow," He murmurs, "I gave you an _orgasm._" I nod lazily, and he kisses me softly. "I never _ever _thought that that's something I'd want to do."

I shrug. "There's a first time for everything, baby. You're just exploring."

* * *

><p>We are sprawled on the couch, sharing a pizza and rewatching <em>Breakfast at Tiffany's. <em>Blaine is oddly quiet as we eat - but I'm not prepared to ask why. There could be so many different reasons ... So many things I don't want to hear. I can't even begin to understand the confusion he's going through right now ...

Instead of speaking, I eat my pizza, and enjoy the complete relaxation that is swimming through my body.

"Hey Santana?" Blaine's voice is timid, and when I turn to face him, his eyes are still on the flickering TV.

"Yeah?" I ask softly.

"I, um ... I'm going to break up with Kurt tomorrow." His eyes meet mine and he smiles weakly.

I suppress a sigh, before leaning over to pat his leg. "Is that want you want?" I ask quietly.

He bites his lip in a way that makes me want to smother him in kisses. "We've been through this, San." His voice breaks - just a little, but I notice it.

I pull him into a hug, kissing the top of his curly hair. "Okay, just ... know that I'm here for you, okay?"

He nods. "Thank you," He breathes. "It means a lot."


	13. Falling for You

**A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews, guys! I just wanted to say: I ship Klaine. Always have, always will. They are completely adorable - possibly one of the best pairings on Glee. So, this isn't like ... Dissing them, or anything. Just saying(: **

"Santana Lopez?" I force that fake smile before turning to see Jack standing behind my register.

"Yes boss?" I suppress a sigh. I still have an hour of my shift left and it's going _slow. _There's a bead of sweat trickling down my boss's ugly bald head.

"Can I have a word?" He says gruffly.

I stand up straighter, pushing my hair out of my eyes. Maybe he'll tell me to go home early. "Sure, what's up?"

He shakes his head. "In the office. I'll put Casey on this register to take your spot."

I frown and my heart rate quickens. _He better not be firing me._ "Why can't we just - "

"I'll be out in a few minutes." He cuts me off.

I stalk passed him and towards the office. _God, I hate this job ... _

* * *

><p>I'm examining a disgustingly sexist calendar when Jack shuffles into the office. He's short and overweight - he's only in his late twenties, but he looks much older.<p>

"Look boss, if you're going to fire me - "

"I'm not firing you, Santana." He clears his throat. "Just take a seat."

I slump into the cushioned office chair, thankful to be sitting down. After the five hour shift, my feet are beginning to ache.

"Now, I'd like to say, you're one of my most valued workers, Miss Lopez." Jack meets my eyes directly. "You've put in a lot of hard work for the store - it means a lot to ... Me."

I look away, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. "Uh, yeah. Thanks ... "

I didn't realize it before, but I notice now that Jack's left eye twitches before he talks. "You must've been a popular girl in high school," He says slowly. "You know, you're a beautiful girl, Santana."

Underneath the desk, Jack's legs bump mine. I suppress my cringe - he's such a _perve_. "Right. Thanks. Look, I have to go home soon – I'm actually not feeling well." I look down at my hands. "Is there anything you actually wanted?"

"You." He says hoarsely.

I spring to my feet. "_Excuse _me?"

Jack pulls himself to his feet too. "You heard me, Santana." He says dryly. "Don't deny it; you've been flirting with me for weeks now."

He reaches forward to place a hand on my cheek and I smack him away, horrified. "You're kidding yourself! Might I remind you that this is _completely _unprofessional!"

He steps closer, pressing his sweaty body against mine. "Well, I think we both know that you're not exactly the most professional woman in our staff. I know you were hooking up with Donnie behind the freezer. We have security cameras here, you know."

I jump away from him. "Oh my _god!_ Are you _fucking _kidding with me? That was _months _ago, you filthy perve!"

Jack shrugs. "I've heard what the other workers say about you - you're easy. They say you're a _slut._" He shrugs his hefty shoulders. "I'm pretty much just doing you a favour by letting you keep this job."

I let out a frustrated yell, and rip the stupid orange vest off my shoulders. "You know what? You can shove your job, you dirty hobo! Fuck you."

I throw the vest at him and storm out of the office.

_Fuck._

* * *

><p>I storm home in a blind rage. <em>Fuck.<em> I always _knew _he was a filthy perve, but _Jesus. _I needed that job. Without it, I'm not going to be able to pay for rent - or anything else.

I slam the front door and stomp across the lounge room. Through my anger, I think I hear Blaine shuffling around in his bedroom - sure enough, he emerges in front of me a few minutes later.

"You slammed the door," He says bluntly.

"Yeah, I did. Problem?" I raise a challenging eyebrow at him.

"You shouldn't slam doors, it's rude."

I stare at him. "Look, if it wasn't for my disgusting pervert manager, I wouldn't be - " I narrow my eyes at him. "Have you been _crying_?"

He shuffles uncomfortably. "No, I'm ... Getting sick, or something." He mumbles.

"Or _something._" I stand up, meeting his gaze. "What happened, Blaine?"

He rubs his temples. "What do you _think _happened?" He asks. "I broke up with Kurt."

"_Oh_ ... " I breathe, unsure of what to say.

"Look, it had to happen. But, you know how Kurt is ... " His voice trails off, and I nod. "I mean, I just ... I wasn't expecting it to be so _hard._"

I put my hand on his shoulder. "Of course it was hard," I say softly."He was your boyfriend, you loved him."

Blaine leans forward and presses his lips just gently against mine. I sigh happily as I enjoy the feelings of his kiss.

"That's not why it was hard," He murmurs. I pull away and look at him questionably. "It was hard, because ... It was so easy. Does that make sense?" He frowns and I shake my head. "What I'm trying to say, is ... I was _okay_ with it. I didn't mind breaking up with Kurt, because ... " He pauses to kiss me again. "I think I'm falling for you, Santana."


	14. Not Just Lust

**A/N: Due to excessive amounts of listening to The Portuguese Love Theme from **_**Love Actually**_** (I regret nothing!) I'm afraid this chapter has turned out extremely soppy ... Sorry about that! Hopefully all you subscribers/reviewers ect. enjoy it anyway!(: **

Well, _shit._

I pull away, resting my hands on Blaine's shoulders. Of course, I was expecting this eventually. I just ... I don't _want _to fall for him. Because, if I fall for him, then I'll be vulnerable - and I hate being vulnerable. And the very worst part - the part that makes my throat constrict, and my hands sweat?

I've always liked him. He's more than just that cute boy I hook up with, more than just a sex toy ... He's _Blaine._

"I think we should have a party," I smile.

Blaine looks taken aback, and a little disappointed. "I say I'm falling for you, and you announce that we should have a party?"

I kiss him deeply, running my hand through his messy hair, and pressing my body against his. "I'm scared," I say quietly, letting my guard come crashing to the floor.

"Why?" Blaine pulls away, and looks at me. "Why are you scared, San?"

I bite my lip - I don't want to say it out loud ... Not just yet. Blaine is watching me expectantly, but I just shake my head. "I'm sorry." I whisper.

* * *

><p>I go to my bedroom feeling restless. Blaine and I don't speak again after that - we just retreat into our separate corners full of thoughts.<p>

I have so many things to worry about - and now the added pressure of finding another job! Can't things just go right for me, for once?

And _Blaine. _Blaine with his sweet eyes, and strong arms ... His innocent smile, and soft lips ... I like him _so _much.

More than I care to admit.

I let out a sigh as I move around my bedroom, attempting to clean up. In actual fact, I'm just making more mess. I can't sleep - I'm too restless.

_A party. _I want to get so drunk that I forget my own name. I want to dance on tabletops, and laugh all night, and ... Yeah, okay - I want to see Blaine drunk. He's always so cautious, so careful when he's around me ... I want him to lose control, throw away his inhibitions ...

Forgetting all hopes of going to sleep any time soon, I head to the bathroom. A hot shower always manages to calm my mind. Just as my hand reaches out for the bathroom door, it opens, and Blaine is standing there.

I freeze, and he freezes. The air is static with electricity - full of our suppressed emotions. Aside from the towel hanging low on his tanned hips, he is naked. His hair is dripping, and he is watching me intently.

"Hi," My voice is a tad higher than I intend it to be.

"Hey," He says softly, stepping forward.

"I was just, uh, gonna have a shower ... " I tear my gaze away from him, and move to step around him. He grabs my arm.

"_Santana_ ... " His voice is heavy, full of those unspoken words ... The words that we're both afraid to say, the words that are coursing through me, hotter than fire ...

I throw my arms around his wet neck, and kiss him. His arms are tight around my waist, his lips meeting mine with equal eagerness. Within seconds, I am trapped between the wall and his wet body, kissing him fervently. He grips my waist as if he is holding on for dear life, and grazes the bottom of my lip with his teeth.

His chest is heaving when he pulls away from me. He reaches out, and pushes a stray strand of hair from my eyes.

"This isn't just sex," I say in a shaking voice.

Blaine regards me carefully as I speak. I grip his hands tight in mine, so he doesn't know how badly they are sweating ... It's scary to admit it out loud - I've never had to do that before. I've never ... I've never cared.

Before Blaine, I didn't care. About anything. I was content with living a life of random sex, and crappy jobs ... But now ... Now I want _more. _I want it all - _everything. _I want _him - _all of him.

"No," Blaine says in a heavy voice. "It never was."

I kiss him once more - but it is full of passion, not lust. In any other situation, Santana would be unravelling his towel - but I'm not that Santana anymore.

I ... I don't know who I am.

* * *

><p>Blaine leads me into his bedroom, planting me on his bed. He turns away as he gets dressed, but I still watch him ... His body is tanned, his abbs, leading all the way down to his ...<p>

I suppress a shiver and lay back on his bed. It feels like home - so comfortable, so _right ... _

Blaine switches off the light, and I can feel him moving around until he is next to me. We sit in beautiful silence, clasping hands ...

At some point, I snuggle down in the bed. Blaine is holding me from behind, breathing softly on my neck. His fingers stroke the exposed skin on my hip where my tank top has ridden up, and as he falls asleep, the movement gets slower and slower until it stops completely.

I snuggle up closer against his warm body, feeling safer than I have in my entire life. I love how _safe_, he is, how comforting he is ...

I love ... _him._

When I'm finally sure that Blaine is well and truly asleep, I whisper into the darkness: "I already fell for you."


	15. Pre Party

**A/N: I promise this chapter is going somewhere! It may seem a bit boring or bland, but it's just setting up for my next chapter, and it's all I can handle at this time of night! Also, if there is any _extremely _stupid spelling mistakes please ignore them, I am a sleepy writer who will stop rambling and sleep now.**

**Enjoy!(: **

"I quit my job," I murmur into Blaine's bare chest.

Blaine jolts into a sitting position, pulling me up with him. "What? _Why_?" He scratches his head, yawning sleepily. I enjoy the way he looks when he's first woken up in the morning - so vulnerable, so ... _real._

I sigh. "Because my boss is a filthy pervert. I _did _try and tell you this."

Blaine stops in the middle of kissing the top of my head, and stares at me. "What happened?" His voice holds a fierce tone that I haven't heard in him before. _Protective_, almost. "What did he do?"

I recall the story of what happened in the office - and what he said about Donnie and I behind the freezer. The fact that he practically called me a slut, and tried to hit on me all at once ... By the end of the story, Blaine's ears are red and his eyes are glinting. "That _bastard._"

I shrug. "I was asking for it - for a while, I _was _a slut ... Besides, I hated that job anyway."

Blaine frowns. "Still ... " He clasps my hand tight in his, stroking my palm with his fingers. "You should sue, or something."

I grin. "Look, Blaine. I don't even care. I'll find another job - I've been wanting to for ages. At least now I have some motivation."

Blaine just shrugs. "I still think he's a dickhead, and deserves a smack in the head ... "

I pull him into a gentle kiss. "It's okay," I murmur, my lips moving against his. "I'm okay."

"I heard what you said last night," Blaine's voice is barely audible after he breaks the kiss. He smiles tentatively. "About ... falling for me."

I look away, embarrassed. "Oh ... I thought you were asleep."

"Baby, I would have heard that if I was lying in my grave on the other side of the world. And," He kisses me on the nose. "For the record, I think a party is a great idea."

* * *

><p>I'm not exactly sure how it happens, but just as the sun is beginning to set for the day, Noah Puckerman turns up on my doorstep. I open the door, and he grins at me.<p>

"_Santana_! Looking mighty fine, _as always._" He winks, sidling up to me, and snaking his arm around my waist. He's looking more muscled these days - I suppose, that's what happens when you work as a builder. "I'm glad to see you off my couch, living in your own space - well, half your own space. You're back on the horse," He pauses to flash me a secret smile. "Figuratively speaking of course ... Unless you wanted to give the old Puck-meister another ride ..."

I push him away. "Puck, I'm not like that anymore." Blaine is at work, and I plan to have this party in full swing by the time he gets home. God knows that we need to let off some steam. The thought of being alone with Puck is hair raising - and not in the good way - so I want to get as many people here as soon as possible.

He raises his eyebrow. "Has living with hobbit-boy rubbed off on you, eh? Are you a full time lesbo now?"

I laugh a little - although, I'm sure Puck notices the slight disgust in my expression. "Errr, not quite." I shake my head. "Look, that's irrelevant. Are we going to do this or not?"

Puck looks me up and down. "You mean the party?" I nod, and Puck grins. "Well of course, gorgeous. Party is my middle name."

* * *

><p>In the crowded lounge room, bodies thump against each other as they move in time with the music. The scent of cloves and alcohol is thick in the air - mingling with the clothes, couches and on the skin of the drunken partiers. Our couch is taken up with couples making out - people I don't even <em>know<em>! The atmosphere is heavy with sex, anger, frustrations, happiness ...

"Who are all these people?" I yell in Puck's general direction.

Puck turns away from the girl he is grinding to shrug at me. There's a smile tugging at his lips, as if to say: _I don't know, I don't care._

Brittany is here. I saw her clutching the hand of some guy I've never seen. Blissfully, there was no hurricane of emotions inside of me - no fear, no longing ... Just acknowledgment. I nodded at her, and she smiled and waved - of course, she's the same old Brittany. Naively unaware of the impact she has on people. She looked ... _carefree. _A lot different too that sobbing phone call I got two weeks ago ... Funny how things can change, eh?

There's a few girls from work, shooting me furtive glances, muttering amongst themselves ... There's probably all sorts of sordid rumours floating about now. But, seriously. I couldn't care less.

I'm shocked when _Quinn Fabray _pulls me into the mess of people dancing in my lounge room. I hug her fondly. "My god, I was _not _expecting to see you here!" I shout over the thumping music. I'm already tipsy, and the alcohol is going straight to my head.

She giggles, and I notice a slight stumble as she attempts to dance. "How could I miss it? It's practically a Glee Club reunion." She hiccups as she thrusts a Vodka Cruiser in my hand - I accept it happily, taking a grateful sip.

I take Quinn's hands in mine, and we dance sillily, moving from tipsy to drunk as the night goes on. "Wait." I stop dancing dramatically, waving my hands in order to keep my balance. "Y-you said it was practically a Glee club reunion?"

Quinn nods enthusiastically, sipping her Vodka through a green straw. "Of course! You, me, Brittany ... I saw Rachel on the arm of some _girl_. And I tell you, _Puckerman has gotten _hot!" She lets out a low whistle.

"_Fuck_. Is Kurt here?" My voice takes on a hysterical note. "And where the hell is Blaine?"

Quinn just giggles before being pulled away from the 'Puck-Meister' himself. I frown, as I make my way through the dancing people. I squint at the clock, trying to see through my alcohol-hazed brain. It's a little after eight. Blaine should be getting -

The front door flings open, and my head snaps up. I'm ready to handle drunken party-crashers, pissed-off neighbours, unexpected guests, or even the police with noise complaints ...

What I am _not _ready to handle, is Blaine standing in the doorway. Chest heaving, and eyes wide as he takes in the scene in front of him.

And I am _definitely _not ready to see the scarlet blood that covers his face, and torn shirt.


	16. Drunken Ramblings

**A/N: Sorry for being such a chapter-tease, I know they're short, but it's the only thing I can do to make it so I can upload regularly ... Does that make sense? Do you lovely people want longer chapters uploaded less regularly, or do you mind if they stay the same length?**

**... Am I even making sense? I'm really sleepy, okay!**

**Anyway, enjoy!(: **

Blaine's eyes are wide as I rush over to him. There's blood on his lip, under his left eye, and smeared on his forehead.

"What the fuck happened?" I shout over the thumping music. I reach up to wipe some blood off his lips and he smiles ruefully.

"Oh, I just went to Wal-Mart," He says dismissively. "What are all these people doing here?"

My mouth drops. _Fuck. _"It's a party," I say quickly. "I wanted to let off some steam ... "

"Well come on," Blaine grins. "Let's get to it."

He shrugs off his torn button-down shirt, revealing the tight white tank top underneath, before taking my hand in his and pulling me across the room. Blaine picks a Vodka of the table, and takes a long mouthful as he leads me towards the bathroom. Together, we maneuver ourselves through the tangled mess of bodies.

I shoot worried glances around the room, searching for Kurt. I notice Brittany dancing with that guy, and the girls from work are staring at Blaine. The alcohol is wearing off, so I accept the bottle that someone thrusts in my hand.

When I get to the bathroom, Blaine is splashing water on his face. I smile at the view of his broad shoulders in the tight white tank top as he bends over the sink. The muscles ripple under his tanned skin. I fold my arms across my chest, and lean up against the wall, watching him in the mirror.

"Blaine, what happened?" I murmur.

He looks up at my reflection. There's water dripping down his face and hair - he looks _good._ "I told you, I went to Wal-Mart." He says simply, gulping down the rest of his bottle in one go.

I stare at him, refusing to listen to the worried thoughts bouncing through my mind. "W-what happened at Wal-Mart?"

Blaine shrugs, wiping the last of the blood off his face, before turning to face me. "I was looking out for you Santana," He says softly.

I let him wrap his arms around me as I rest my head against his warm chest. "Are you okay, though? God, are you in trouble?"

Blaine leans down and kisses my lips - just gently. The intensity of the kiss catches me off guard, though - it's more than just a kiss. It's a promise. "I'm okay - it's a bit of blood, nothing serious."

"I want to know exactly what happened." I say in a hard voice.

"Not now baby." Blaine takes my face in his hands, pressing his forehead against mine. "Come on. Let's just have some fun - you need it."

* * *

><p>Blaine is laughing as I grind up against him, dancing happily. He's drunk - there's no doubt about it. I can feel his erection rubbing against my back as I dance, but he seems unaware of it. I turn around, still swaying with the music, and kiss him deeply. He responds enthusiastically, throwing his arms around my waist, and pulling me closer. He moans into my mouth, teasing my lips with his tongue.<p>

"Santana, I _love _you." He slurs through his drunken haze.

I giggle, tugging at a strand of his hair as he kisses me hungrily. "I'm sure you do," I murmur. "How about we take this somewhere quieter?"

Blaine thrusts his hips against mine, kissing my neck. "Yes, yes, yes, _baby._" His voice reverberates down my spine, sending waves of shivers rushing through me.

Although Blaine has been chugging down drink after drink, he seems to understand my implication. He stumbles across the room, and I duck under his arm to support him. Puck nods at me from across the room - he's not drunk. Actually, knowing Puck, he's probably the most sober one here - other than me. He'll want to take advantage of the girls that are throwing themselves at him.I mentally prepare myself for twenty questions from him about Blaine later.

But, for now, I'm just going to have fun.

We stumble through the crowd, making our way towards Blaine's bedroom, stopping every so often to let him kiss me deeply. He can't keep his hands off me, he's stroking my ass, gripping my waist, kissing my neck. I turn around, kissing him as we walk backwards, pushing his bedroom door open.

"Santana, you are _so _beautiful," He rambles drunkenly, kissing me as he talks. "I just - "

I turn to close the door behind me, and that's when I notice Kurt is sitting on Blaine's bed.

* * *

><p>I jump away from Blaine - and Blaine makes an angry noise reaching out to pull me closer to him again. I jerk his hand off, then - with wide eyes - he too notices Kurt.<p>

Kurt stares from me to Blaine - his face is frozen with shock. Emotions ripple through my body, and for the first time in my life I'm speechless. I don't know how to feel. _Guilt_, mostly.

Even through his drunkenness, Blaine seems to realize the horrifying significance of this moment.

"Kurt," He slurs. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Kurt says coldly. "I came here to try and talk to you, but ... " He stands up, smoothing out his skin tight jeans. Already, I can see the melodramatic lip quiver beginning. "Sorry, I assumed ... "

His voice trails off and he storms passed Blaine and I. I can't hear the door slam over the deafening music, but I know that Kurt doesn't hold back.

For a moment, Blaine and I stare at each other. Blaine looks shell-shocked, and still half aroused. "He assumed I was still gay," Blaine stares at the closed door.

"Well, you might still be," I say slowly.

"Nah, I don't think so." Blaine slurs mildly. "Like ... You're just too hot ... " He doesn't finish that sentence because he is kissing me desperately.

I smile, and kiss him back half-heartedly. I'm not drunk enough to forget this - I'm not drunk enough to ignore the guilt coursing through my body. Blaine is, though. He makes that very clear as he pushes me onto his bed, running his hands along my body.

"I love you, Santana." He says again. I can smell the alcohol on his breath.

_This isn't what I planned. _I wanted to see him drunk, I wanted to test him - see how much he wanted me. I didn't want this emotional mess, or drunken confessions of love ... And I _so _didn't want Kurt to see what he did - this feeling of guilt is such a foreign thing for me, and I don't know how to handle it.

"I want to fuck you." Blaine nibbles my ear, and I freeze.

For some reason, I take this comment a lot more literally than the drunken 'I love you's.

"Do you mean that?" I ask sharply, pulling away to look at him.

He nods, grinning idiotically. "Yes, baby. _So _badly ... I've wanted to ever since we kissed for that first time ... Santana, I want _you._"

I swallow painfully, because - not that I'll ever admit it out loud - but, I've never been so completely aroused in my life.

"Well, maybe - when you're sober - we'll talk about it," I say huskily, trailing my fingers down his chest. I kiss him deeply, slipping my tongue in between his lips. "But, for now, Blaine - you need to sleep. Because we're going to have a lot to talk about tomorrow."


	17. Shine

**A/N: So, I decided to shake things up and write from Blaine's Point of View for once - just to see where it took me! I hope you guys don't mind a change of pace! Also: The anon reviewer under the name 'Ash' do you like ... Read my thoughts, or something? We seem to share a lot of the same ideas! Haha! Anyway, hope you enjoy, guys!(:**

**Blaine Anderson:**

I wake from my dreams to the sound of Santana breathing softly by my side. She's watching me - her arm propped up on her hand, and she smiles. I sigh, stretching out across the bed. Already, I can smell the remnants of last night's party wafting through the house. God, that'll be some cleaning ...

"Hey baby," She murmurs, leaning down to kiss me.

I place my hands on her smooth cheeks, kissing her deeply. Despite the faint smell of cheap alcohol wafting through the house, Santana smells _beautiful. _She always smells beautiful - she _is _beautiful. My lip is still swollen and quite tender from last night - but I don't mention it just yet.

"Well, last night was interesting ... " My voice trails off as she curls up against my bare chest. To be honest, I can't quite remember much of anything ... Drunken confessions of love, hot dancing ... _Fuck_, she was hot. I remember ...

I get distracted by the sight of Santana stretching across the bed cover. She's wearing a pink bra and those blue panties ... A blush flares across my cheeks as I remember the last time I saw her in those underwear. I feel my dick twitch as I remember the sight of Santana, alone in her bed ...

I swallow dryly, as Santana chatters on about Puck, and his master party organization skills ... She asks me if I enjoyed the party.

"Uh, god ... I can't even remember," I murmur, running a hand through my wild hair. "Did we ... ?" My voice trails off and I nod pointedly at our nearly-naked bodies. Yes, she is absolutely _beautiful _- one of the most beautiful people I've ever met. And, one day ... I want to show her _exactly _how much I want her ... I just want to make sure that my first time having sex wasn't while I was drunk.

She laughs, and I smile at the way her voice carries across the empty bedroom. "Of course not! God, Blaine. Before me, you'd never _kissed _a girl - I'm hardly going to have _sex _with you while you're drunk!" I grin sheepishly, before resting my arm on her bare hip and pulling her closer to me. I'll never fail to be surprised at how _soft_ her skin is ... I love it. "You did _want _to, though ... " Her voice trails off, and she runs her fingers down my chest. I shiver.

"Yeah, I remember that." I bite my lip, feeling the blush crawl across my cheeks.

"You also said you loved me ... "

My heart thumps. "Yeah, I remember that too ... " Impulsively, I pull her face forward, brushing my lips just slightly against hers ...

She pulls away to trace the outline of my swollen lip. I can already feel the nasty bruise forming under my left eye. "How did you get that?" She asks softly.

I look down at our entwined hands. I love the way her fingers fit perfectly between mine. "After I finished work, I ... I went to visit your boss."

Santana meets my eyes. She knows what happened - I can see it by the twitch of her lips. "I figured that much," She says bleakly. "What the hell happened?"

"I said that he was a prick for treating you like that, and I punched him," I shrug like it's no big deal. I don't want her sympathy - I did it because her pervert freak of a boss deserved it, not to impress her. "He punched me back of course, and told me to get the fuck out of there before he called the cops. But, he's got a broken nose now - and _none _of the ladies will be going near him anytime soon. _Oh_! And," A memory floats through my head and I look down, embarrassed. "I forgot ... I got something for you."

Santana raises her eyebrows at my sudden shyness as I lean over the bed to find my discarded jeans from last night. I shuffle around for a moment, before producing that pamphlet and handing it too her. Before she can speak, I wrap an arm around her smooth shoulder as she looks down at the pamphlet.

"In case you needed ... Some motivation," I murmur, kissing the top of her head.

For a moment, she is absolutely silent. _The Conservatorium of Music. _ The words on the page are taunting me - maybe I've done the wrong thing, crossed some kind of invisible line.

She stares at me, eyes wide. "What is this?" I'm surprised at how quiet her voice is ... It's so ... Vulnerable. I've never heard her sound like that before.

"This," I tap the pamphlet, "Is what you need, San." The blood is rushing to my ears, but I keep talking. It's the truth - and she needs to hear it. "You're an amazing singer - better than anyone I've ever heard. And ... You're beautiful. A star. You need a chance to shine."

I open my mouth but no more words come out. I can't explain how much it means to me that she be happy. I _know _what it's like to be misjudged. I know what it's like when no one's ever had _faith _in you. When no one _believes _in you ... I need her to be happy - because, when she's happy, I'm happy.

"I love you." She catches me off guard by throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me deeply. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

I laugh as she pulls herself up against my body, straddling me. Already I can feel that familiar throbbing beginning in my lower region - she just _does _things to me. I pull away for just long enough to say: "I love you too, Santana." Before launching into this kiss.

* * *

><p>She drags her fingernails down my chest, causing my breath to escape from my lips in one hurried rush. She grins, pulling me closer to her, biting my lip in a way that has me semi-hard already. I can feel her grinding her hips into mine as we kiss, desperately trying to be closer to me.<p>

My fumbling fingers are trying to undo her bra - I'm still not used to this 'bra' business ... I mean, seriously. Who needs that many hooks. She smiles knowingly, before reaching behind her back, and unclipping it in one fluid motion. I groan, and my hands are stroking her breasts before I even realize it's happening. I love how soft she is - how just running a finger over her nipple can cause her whole body to shudder. She's so _sensitive - _magnificant.

She drags her fingers through my hair, kissing me with that passion only she can pull off. I can feel her heart fluttering against my hand. She continues moving her hips as we kiss, and soon enough - yep. I swallow dryly as she her hips grind against _that motherfucking spot._

And, oh yes. I'm hard as rock.

She smiles and already her hand is beginning to trail down my chest. I think she _enjoys _teasing me - bringing me to the complete edge, then dragging me back down again. I can feel my shaft straining against my boxers, begging for release, I groan as Santana begins stroking me through the thin material as we kiss.

She shuffles her position a little, so her thighs are on either side of my left leg, and her hand is directly on my crotch. She is moving her hips faster now - panting a little. I almost cum right there when I realize she's practically humping my leg.  
><em>Ohgod<em>, that's so hot.

"Do you want me too ... " Her voice is raspy, and she looks down at me with flushed cheeks. Her hand squeezes my dick through my boxers as if to illustrate her question.

"Yes," I gasp. "_Please_."

Her hand continues rubbing me through my boxers as she kisses me hungrily. Her fingers slip under the elastic, and ... _Oh fuck. _Her hand is warm as she grips the bass of my shaft. She moans, and I gasp as she begins rubbing me firmly. I pull away from the kiss to graze my teeth over her neck. She begins moving faster against my leg, and I can feel her damp underwear rubbing against my skin.  
><em>Jesusfuckingchrist - <em>I don't know if I can hold back much longer.

Her eyes are half closed in an expression of lust, and complete horniness as my lips find their way to her nipples. I suck experimentally, finding what makes her gasp and shudder. All this time, her grip grows tighter on my dick, and already - so_-godamn_-soon I can feel the heat coiling deep in the pit of my stomach. I don't want to cum too early - but _fuckinghell_ she's so hot. She's ... She's ...

"Oh _god_," She pants, pulling my face up to kiss me. Her tongue is roaming my lips, fiercely dueling with my own eager tongue. "Is it wrong that I'm totally getting off on this?"

I laugh huskily - feeling more than a little out of breath. "_I ..._" I suppress a loud groan as her hand explores the length of my hardness. "There's ... Nothing, wrong." I want to say more - to tell her that I am so _fucking _close to cumming, and that the fact that she is practically humping my leg is the biggest turn on in the world - instead, all that comes from my mouth is a series of strangled gasps.

She moans, thrusting her hips harder into my leg as I let my fingers flick over her nipples. Her chest is heaving, and there's that slightly familiar expression on her face ... The expression that aches for relief - the expression that is _desperate _for that release.

"Jesus!" Her hand begins moving faster, up and down my dick. Her fingers rubbing some of the precum that is already seeping out. She pulls away from the kiss, and takes her hand off me. I groan, bucking my hips up in the absense of her hand, and she smiles as she pulls her hand to her mouth, letting her tongue flick across her fingers.  
>And, <em>oh fuck. <em>It's all or nothing now, because if I don't cum in the next two minutes, I'll explode.

I kiss her, moaning at the taste of myself in her mouth. She squeezes the bottom of my shaft, taking advantage of my squirming to move her hips faster against my leg. I can feel the wetness seeping through her underwear, the tenderness of her ...

_"Fuck_!" I gasp, thrusting my hips desperately into her hand. "_Please_, god ... Santana ... " She smiles at my desperation, rubbing me harder - thrusting closer to me as the kiss takes on a whole new level.

"Oh baby," She moans against my lips.

"I can't ... " Turns out, I can't say anything more, because she reaches down to stroke the top of my dick, while her other hand squeezes the bottom. My hands are on her hips, pulling her tighter as she desperately thrusts against my leg. _Ohmyfuckingod! _She lets out a breathy moan, and her entire body seems to shudder against my leg, thrusting hard against me as her orgasm rips through her.

I'm seconds behind her as I cum harder than I have in my entire life.  
>"<em>Oh god!" <em>I thrust up hard against her hand. Her grip remains tight as my entire body shakes. She milks out every last drop, kissing me desperately before slumping against me.

I'm too breathless to speak - so I settle for pulling Santana onto my chest, and nuzzling her neck. "I love you," I whisper. I don't think she understands the complete _truth _of those words.

She looks up, "Do you mean that, Blaine?" She asks softly.

I'm sure that I'm the only one who's ever seen that insecurity in her eyes - the only one who can see how vulnerable she really is. "They're the truest words I've ever spoken, baby."


	18. Someone Like You

**A/N: So, just a warning ... I'll probably be ending this soon. This isn't the last chapter or anything, but ... Yeah. Just warning you! Also, I didn't realize how much I'd enjoy writing from Blaine's POV, so this chapter is from his point of view again - I might go all out and write the rest of this story in his POV, who knows? Anyway ... Enjoy!(: **

**Blaine Anderson:**

I smile when I hear Santana singing in the shower as I drink my morning coffee. She sings a song of heartbreak - pulling off every note flawlessly. I shudder as she reaches a particularly emotional verse, raising her voice through the stream of the shower causing it to echoe around the house.

"_Regret's and mistakes, they're memories made. Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?_" Although the song is incredibly sad, Santana sings it as if she's the happiest person in the world.

Who knows ... Maybe she is? I know _I'm_ getting close to it.

I duck my head into the loungeroom when I hear Santana emerging from the bathroom. Her hair is falling in long wet tendrils around her shoulders, and her blue towel is tied loosely around her tanned body. I swallow hardly as I realize that she's naked under that towel ... I feel a dull ache beginning in my lower region. As always, I _want _her.

We haven't talked about having sex ... Or anything, really. But, I think ... I think we're getting close. Especially after what happened this morning ... The thing is, if we're going to do this, I want to do it _right._

"Did you want some coffee?" I ask, trying to keep the longing from my voice.

Santana nods, smiling. "I have to go out later. But, yeah. I'll have some coffee."

I'm not ashamed to admit that my hungry eyes follow her wet body until she shuts the bedroom door behind her.

* * *

><p>"We need to talk about what happened with Kurt," Santana says simply, pausing to sip her coffee.<p>

I frown at her. "I thought I told you - Kurt and I broke up. It's over." My voice doesn't shake when I speak, but I feel a distinct rush of guilt flash through my body. Kurt means a lot to me, and I hate that we couldn't end things on a good note ... Despite the troubles, he was my friend. My best friend, actually.

Santana places her cup on the table with a little more force than necessary. "I figured you probably wouldn't remember," Her face is a deadpan, her voice faking calmness.

"Remember what?" I ask, worried.

"On Friday night - the party. Don't you remember what happened with Kurt?" I shake my head and the worry stirs in my stomach. _I didn't even think Kurt was there_ ... "Well, he was there," Santana says, practically reading my thoughts. "I didn't see him, until ... " Her voice trails off and she swallows audibly.

"Until what?" I ask dryly.

"You and I were dancing," She says, smiling a little.

"I remember that," I grin, feeling the familiar stirring in my loins. I remember her body grinding up against me, I remember gripping her breasts as we danced ...

"And, you were getting ... A little flustered," She winks and sips her coffee before continuing. "So, we went to your bedroom. We were kissing - that was when you said you wanted to fuck me. We got in the bedroom, and ..."

"And what?" I prompt.

"And Kurt was sitting on your bed," She finishes, cringing.

_Oh god. _"Jesus. He wasn't like ... Naked, or anything?"

Santana laughs a little. "God, no." She shudders. "But ... He did see us kissing."

I sigh, and run a hand through my hair. "Well, _fuck. _Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Santana shrugs. "We were having too much fun." She emphasises the word _fun. _

"I suppose we were," I say grinning lopsidedly. "Well ... What happened next?"

Santana drains her coffee cup before getting to her feet. She's wearing that tight black skirt, and my white button down shirt. She looks ... _Amazing. _"Kurt stormed out - like only Kurt can. You continued begging me to fuck you, and that's about it."

I stand up too. Despite myself, my palms are sweaty. "Santana, I want you to be my girlfriend." The words are tumbling out of my mouth before I can stop them

Santana stops mid-step, and stares at me. Her eyes are wide. "Are you serious?"

I nod. "Yes, _yes. _I love you. God, I don't know _why _- I don't even know how it came to happen. I just ... Do. You do things to me, San. And, I want to _show you _how much I love you. I want to prove it."

For a moment, her cool exterior crashes to the floor. Flashing behind her eyes, I see a range of emotions: shock, surprise, vulnerability, fear ... Happiness. _Finally_, she smiles and steps forward, linking her fingers in between mine. "Okay," She reaches up to kiss me. "I'll be your girlfriend."

* * *

><p>I spend the rest of the day in a happy daze. <em>My girlfriend - my <em>first ever girl_friend. _She leaves the house - explaining that she's looking up a possible job opportunity, and that she'll be back for dinner. I have the day off today, so I spend my day relaxing.

And, yeah, okay. Thinking about Santana. Just _everything _about her ... It's too good to be true. The way she smells, the way she tastes ... The way she looks at me after we kiss ...

Inevitably, my thoughts turn to sex. And Santana. I remember the way she was thrusting her hips against my leg this morning - and I imagine how it would feel to have those hips thrusting against my own. I imagine how it would feel to be sliding in and out of her. I ... I've never _wanted _anything so badly. I've never physically _needed _anybody like I need Santana.

Before I know it, I am hard, and heading for the shower.

* * *

><p>The hot water cascades over my hard shaft, and I shiver in anticipation of what's to come. I lather my body in soap, thinking of Santana as I do. I should wait for her to get home, but ... <em>Oh.<em>

My hand brushes along the edge of my hard cock, and I realize I'm too far gone. There's no waiting. Not today.

My knees quiver as I begin to rub myself, resting my other arm against the wall for support. I groan as the water splashes against me, making my skin that much more sensitive.

In my mind, Santana is stripping.

Yes. _Oh yes. _

My grip tightens, and already, the pressure in my abdomen is building. I know I'm not going to last long, as my fingers trail along the length of my shaft.

The soap is slippery, and it makes wet sounds as the speed of my rubbing increases. I bite my lip to stop myself from moaning - if Santana, or anyone else walks into the house, I don't want them to hear me moaning alone in the shower.

But ... _Mmmm._

I begin thrusting my hips into my tight grip, pumping my dick harder, imagining Santana's expression if she saw me. _She'd be aroused - _she'd have no choice but to fuck me stupid.

_Oh god, _I'd give anything ...

My grip tightens, and my muscles are beginning to tense as I remember exactly what happened this morning - Santana's face when she was grinding against my leg, the moistness she left on my thigh, the sound she made when she came ...

"_Fuck._" I mutter, pushing harder. I'm fighting the urge to cum, milking out the intense pleasure rippling through my body for just a little longer ... I'll push myself over the edge with images of Santana flooding my mind.

In my mind, she's riding me. She's moaning as my fingers grip her hips, as I rub her clit while she slides up and down against me ...

"_Ohhhhhhhhhhh, yes!_" I yell out, before exploding over my hand and the wall of the shower. My knees almost buckle as I shove my dick harder against my hand, riding out the orgasm ... "_Oh, god._"

With a contented sigh, I collapse against the shower wall, panting hard.

Well, Jesus. Three months ago, if someone had asked me if I'd be jerking off over girls I would have laughed in their face. I chuckle to myself.

_Only for Santana. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Also, the song Santana was singing in the shower at the beginning of the chapter was 'Someone Like You' by Adele - hence, the name of the chapter. If you haven't heard it, I suggest you should because it's bloody amazing. Hope you liked it, and sorry for taking ages to update!(: **


	19. What is Love?

**A/N: Sorry about the slow updates guys, school has been hectic! Thanks for sticking with me, though! I've had lots of great ideas over the last few days, so be prepared for a string of new chapters over the next few weeks! I suppose it doesn't need to be said, but this chapter is written from Blaine's POV again - because he's just so fun to write! Anyway, enjoy!(:**

**Blaine Anderson:**

"What is love, anyway? I mean, we can't just say it comes out of _nowhere_. Nothing comes out of nowhere." Kurt smiles briefly, before bringing the paper coffee cup to his lips and downing the last of his skinny latte.

I grin. "You're avoiding my question, Kurt."

"And your point is?" Kurt places his palms down on the table - a gesture of surrender? "I didn't even have to meet you here today, you know."

I smile. "I know," I say softly. "But, I'm so glad you did." When Kurt just nods, I hesitate. "We ... We _are _still friends, right? I mean - "

"Of course!" Kurt interrupts me. "I mean, I'm shocked at what happened last Friday night, and ... I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't tempted to knock you back today, but ... I'm glad we're talking, even if it is a little weird. I'm not entirely convinced about your 'relationship' with Santana, and truth be told, I believe that you're still gay. But ... I missed you, Blaine."

I smile at Kurt's air quote of _relationship_ and his dubious attitude to my sexuality_. _"You totally love him though," I grin as my easy attitude defuses the tense atmosphere, and I direct Kurt back to the question he was avoiding before.

"So what if I did? It's _Karofsky_! He's ... He's ... "

"He's totally in love with you," I finish for Kurt.

I know him well enough to see the happy smile flick across Kurt's lips before he suppresses it. "That's irrelevant. It's _Dave_, how can I tru - "

"Dave, is it now?" I grin, raising an eyebrow. Hesitantly, I reach out and pat Kurt's arm - I hope he doesn't take the gesture the wrong way. "Look, Kurt. _Anyone _would be crazy not to fall in love with you. You _deserve _to be happy - you deserve to be in love."

Kurt pulls his arm away, looking down at his hands. "I _was _in love," He mumbles.

* * *

><p>After a bit of bumpy conversation, and some awkward moments, I begin to talk about what's happened with Santana. I feel obliged to tell him, because Kurt deserves an explanation.<p>

"When it started, I didn't understand _why _it was happening ... I mean, you and I were going great - I was more in love with you than ever, but ... I was curious. I know I shouldn't have been, but the night Santana kissed me ... I realized that, all my life, I'd never really _explored _the possibilities, you know? Even you kissed Brittany back in high school days."

Kurt nods distractedly. "Hey, uhh ... Do you think I should say yes?"

I put on a mock expression of hurt. "I'm pouring my heart out to you, and you have nothing to say about it?"

Kurt waves his hand. "Just answer the question, Blaine."

"Do I think you should say yes to dinner with Karofsky? The guy who bullied you all through high school, making your life hell? _Of course_!" Kurt sighs, and I force my face into a more serious expression. "Sorry, I just know that there's no point in you asking me - you'll do what you want to do, Kurt."

"He's different now," Kurt says softly. "I didn't even recognize him."

I grin. "You've got it bad, boy."

"Shut up."

I smile, downing the rest of my coffee in one go. "Look, here's what it comes down to: Do _you _want to go out with him?"

"Yes," There's no hesitation in Kurt's voice.

"Then there's your answer." I stand up, with the intention of getting the bill, but Kurt grabs my arm.

"Hey Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

There's a small smiling lingering on his lips, and he looks down at his feet. "I'm really glad you're happy with Santana," He whispers.

* * *

><p>The day is fine, and I decide to walk home instead of taking the bus with Kurt. Our conversation has left me happier, and more relieved than I've felt in a while. I'm just so glad that things haven't been completely ruined between us - he really is an amazing friend.<p>

Music from my iPod blares in my ears, and I decide that maybe Karofsky would be good for Kurt. I just want him to be as happy as I am. That's all. It's not like -

"Blaine!" I whirl around, and Santana is standing behind me, smiling widely. I grin. "I've been yelling your name for the last five minutes!"

"Sorry, I was off in my own world," I say, taking in her appearance. She is wearing those really tight blue jeans, with her black tank top and ... _Oh. _No bra. My grin grows rider.

"I see," She says, continuing to beam. "How was lunch with Kurt?"

"Good," I smile, "It was really good.

"That's good," She pats my arm. "Hey, I have some news."

"What is it?"

She pauses, and meets my eyes. Her gaze is too heated for the moment - it's the kind of expression that says, _I want you to make love to me. Right. Fucking. Now. _Her lips are slightly parted, and I realize haven't kissed her hello yet ... Am I even allowed to in public? Is that why she's looking at me like that? Because she wants me too ...? Okay, so maybe I just _wish _that was the kind of look she's giving me. Instead, she just says: "I got accepted into the Conservatory of Music."

"That's _incredible_!" Without thinking, I throw my arms around her lean body, pulling her tight against me. Before I know it, my lips have found hers, and I am slipping my tongue in her mouth. Her lips taste of mango ice cream, and my hands skim across the exposed skin on her hip. _Oh_, I love it.

Suppressing a groan, I pull away from her, letting my arms trail down her waist. "Wait. Was that okay?" I ask hesitantly.

She frowns. "Was what okay?" Her hand links down to find mine, and we begin to walk.

"Kissing you?" I ask. "In public? We've never done that before ... " _Except drunkenly at a party ... _I add silently.

She stops walking, and turns to face me - there's a very serious expression on her face. Worry flits through me, and I'm afraid that I've said too much. To my surprise, she opens that beautiful mouth of hers and laughs loudly.

"Blaine," She breathes, reaching her arms behind my neck. "You're my _boyfriend, _you're allowed to kiss me in public."

I laugh loudly, before kissing her again deeply. I can feel her smiling against my lips and it's the best feeling in the world.

My eyes flicker open, and I see Kurt watching us from the bus stop across the street. He offers me a hesitant smile, with the slight nod of his head, and I return it happily, before continuing to kiss my girlfriend.


	20. Thank Me Later

**A/N: I'm a shit updater, and a liar, I know - but I promise, the wait is worth it! There's an actual plot happening in my head and that's always good, isn't it? Also, I love the reviews! They make me smile every time I get a new one, and I think you lovely readers should review way more often! :D Also, I feel bad because people keep subscribing and I'm taking forever to update lately! When exams are over, I promise I'll update more often!**

**Okay, long authors note is long, and with that, I hope you enjoy!(: **

**Oh yeah, also, it's from Blaine's POV **_**again. **_**This is turning into a permanent thing, I think - I hope you guys don't mind?(:**

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><p><strong>Blaine Anderson:<strong>

Nothing beats the smell of books in this tiny book shop. It's the best thing ever_._ Well, okay, it's _nearly _the best thing ever - next to the smell of Santana's hair ... but that's not the point.

I sit on the familiar creaky chair with my legs resting on the counter as I flick through an old Ken Follet book. It's only just gone six, and I'm here for another three hours. Business has been slow lately, and the manager left me alone to close the store so he can go out with his family for dinner. I don't mind. I kind of like being alone.

They'll probably shut this place down soon. I don't know what I'd do if it happened, but we haven't been getting a steady stream of customers for a while now, and I'm the only full-time employee left.

I flick through the pages of the book, letting my eyes glide over between a particularly steamy sex scene. _Ah, _olden day sex riots - it's things like this that make me wish I'd been born centuries ago, and Ken Follet writes them best. It's the romance, the forbidden love ... Enough to drive a boy crazy.

Of course, with Santana constantly on my mind, I'm close enough to crazy as it is. I mean, I'm serious about this whole 'sex' thing. I want to do it properly. Of course, Santana's had sex before - I've never asked her about it, but I'm sure she has. She'll be _so _experienced, and I'll just be ... Well.

_Maybe we should talk about it ... _I smile to myself. That could make for an interesting conver -

The creak of the door opening drags my attention away from any of those immoral thoughts fluttering through my mind. A girl is facing the street, pushing the door open with her ass. She waves to someone across the road, blowing a kiss.

I sit up straighter. I've never really been into the whole checking-out-girls thing - even after everything's that happened with Santana. In a crazy, twisted, clichéd turn of fate, I only have eyes for her. She's the only one that turns me on.

Although, I can't help but stare as the girl turns to enter the store. Her jeans are tight, accentuating the curve of her ass. I swallow dryly. Well, who would have thought _I'd_ be checking out another -

She turns, and captures my gaze.

I grin.

Of course, the girl I'm perving on: it's Santana.

* * *

><p>She smiles widely, before sidling across the room, and wrapping her arms around my neck. She smothers me with kisses that are just a little too intense to be a normal 'hello.' Her body is pressed up against mine, and I can feel the heat of her skin as my fingers trail along her hip.<p>

Reluctantly, I pull away.

"Well, hey there." I laugh, kissing her once more - just softly. "Someone's excited to see me."

She chuckles, extracting herself from my arms before leaning casually against the counter. "What can I say? I've missed you, boyfriend." Her hand is rubbing my thigh, and I find it very hard to concentrate on what she's saying. "What with me going in between classes, and you working more, we hardly get to see each other."

"Yeah," I say absentmindedly, "I've noticed." Her fingers are brushing over that tender spot right at the top of my thigh - she smiles, because she can see what she's doing to me. Her soft stroking turns to a firm grasp, and I shiver. It's been two weeks since that incident in the bed, and - all vulgarness aside - I miss the way her hand felt on my dick. I miss that sound she made when her orgasm ripped through her.

The truth is, I want _more. _More intensity. More feeling. More everything. "Look," With all the strength I have, I pull away from Santana's hand. "If you keep rubbing my thigh like that, I'm going to need a change of pants."

She grins, quirking an eyebrow at me. "Oh really? That's all it takes to get you off?" Her voice rises hopefully, almost as if she's tempted by the idea, and she winks playfully.

"In case you forgot, I _work _here. I can't be, well ... You know, while I'm at work." My voice trails off in embarrassment. "And, if you _must _know, _yes. _That's probably all it would take to 'get me off.' I feel like we've barely seen each other over the last few weeks, and I miss you. And your kisses, and your lips, and your _body._" My hands grasp her hips. "And ... It's _frustrating._"

Santana smiles knowingly, twining her fingers through mine. "I know the feeling," She murmurs. "But ... I'll make it up to you."

"How?" I ask, smiling.

The corner of her mouth quirks upwards. "Well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"

I sigh. "That's hardly fair!"

"You're at _work_, I can't tell you all my dirty little plans here! You said it yourself!" She's smiling smugly, pushing her body closer against mine.

I swallow drying, forcing all my thoughts away from the blood that's pulsing down south ... "You're a tease."

"I know." She grins.

"And, I probably won't have this job for much longer anyway." I step away, needing to place some distance between us - Santana is _so _goddamn good at getting me all 'worked up' and I can't be like that at _work. _"Business is shit at the moment."

Santana looks around, as if she's finally realizing that we're alone in the store. "How about you renovate the store into a gig spot, or something? Like, you know, live bands and buying books. Those indie rocker kids would eat that shit up. It'd be their wet dream - nerd, and rock, all mixed into one."

I don't bother to mask my surprise. And, Santana smiles smugly as my unruly hands snake around her waist again, pulling her closer to me. I just _want _everything. I want her touch, her lips, her hands, her hips, her breasts ... I want it all. _Right now. _

"Well, aren't you just full of ideas," I murmur, leaning in to kiss her softly. "I'll ask my manager about it later."

Santana pulls away, with a mischievous smirk on her lips. "Speaking of ideas, I have something I want us to try when you get home ... "

_That _gets my attention. "Oh, _really_? What did you have in mind?"

She smiles, trailing her finger down my chest. I shiver under her touch. "Oh, it's a surprise."

"I _do _like the sound of that," I slip my tongue in her mouth, feeling a giddy rush of heat flutter through my body as her eager lips devour my own. The kiss grows heated - like they always seem to lately - and I force myself to pull away. I _can't_ get carried away. Not at work. "I also like the idea of making this into to somewhere for bands to play. I think my manager will like it too. Thank you."

"Well, I really really like _you, _boyfriend. And," she pauses, and darts her tongue into my mouth, catching me off guard as she grazes my bottom lip with her teeth. I groan, and she cups the semi-hard bulge in my jeans. "You can thank me later."


	21. The Main Performance

**A/N: So firstly, I want to thank 'i****vy1995nichole****' for being my 300th subscriber! You are all amazing, and I can't believe so many people wait for updates for this fic! Everytime I get a new review or subscriber, it makes me smile - even though I only intended for this story to be a one off. Anyway, hopefully you enjoy it(: **

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><p><strong>Blaine Anderson:<strong>

Three hours later, I'm smiling to myself because there is an old jazz song blasting from inside our apartment.

I can hear Santana singing along with the sultry song through the thin apartment door as I shove the key in the lock. I push the door open, and my mouth goes dry.

Santana is standing in the middle of the loungeroom, singing into a hairbrush in her hands. Of course, this isn't what causes my excitement.

She's wearing a sheer red camisole, that strains across her breasts, and flows out just above her hips, leaving a fair stretch of tanned, _delicious _skin exposed. Not only that, but the only thing covering her bottom half, is a pair of frilly pink underwear. I groan loudly, and she spins around.

"Oh, Blaine, you weren't meant to come home for another hour!" She drops the hairbrush, but continues humming huskily.

I smile sheepishly. "Hey, I'm not complaining." I shut the door behind me, and walk across the room, extending my arms around her waist.

"I was going to put on a show for you baby," She murmurs, her lips moving against my ear.

"Well, this is good enough," My fingers trail along her back, sliding against the silky material and scraping along the exposed skin on her back. I suppress a groan - already, the excitement is pulsing through me.

She pushes her hips against mine, purposely rubbing against my crotch. "Come with me," She breathes. She takes my hand in hers, and pulls me across the room. "I've missed you."

The jazz music continues to play - it's an old Amy Winehouse song. "_I was thinking of you when I came ... What do you expect? You left me here alone ... I drank so much, and needed to touch!" _Santana leaves the music playing loudly, smiling mischievously in a way that sends all the blood rushing straight between my legs.

* * *

><p>She's kissing me before we even get to the bedroom. Slow, teasing kisses, that leave me practically begging for more.<p>

"Since you interrupted me, I think I'll just go straight to the main performance."

"Well, I like the sound of that," I grin, pulling her hips closer to mine, and slipping my tongue in her mouth.

She pulls away, smiling. "But wait, there's more." She pushes me gently onto the bed, straddling my hips, pushing forward slightly. Already, I can feel the bulge in my pants beginning to grow.

"I have one request," She murmurs, leaning forward to cup my cheeks in her hands.

"_Anything_," I say dryly, pushing up against her slightly. My jeans are beginning to strain, and my hands are grasping her warm ass through her underwear.

"Don't come until I say you can."

I groan, slumping my head back onto the bed, Santana smiles wickedly. "Baby, I don't know how long I can last." She smiles, because she can obviously feel my hardness pressing against her bare thigh.

"Well," She pulls my tee-shirt over my head, and begins kissing my chest. "You'll have to use some self-control, because you _can't come until I tell you too_."

A waterfall of excitement is rushing through my body as her tongue flicks across one of my nipples. I groan. "Are we going to have sex?" I ask, panting a little at the thought.

With one last kiss on my chest, she sits up straight, digging her hips against mine. My cock is hard now, and pressing against her. "Do you want to?" She asks breathily.

"Yes," I gasp, pulling her forward. No hesitation.

She pulls away, eyes wide. "Not yet," She murmurs, stroking my cheek. "It'll all happen over time."

_And _that _is why I love her. _

I don't need to say any of the words rushing through my mind, because my kiss says it all. _Love. _

'_I want to hold your hand.' _This is good. This is _right._

Santana's fingers are doing a nifty job on my belt as she continues kissing me. Her breath on my face, her hair tickling my shoulders ... It's _heaven. _

Briefly, I wonder what 'ideas' are running through her mind, but soon, her hands are pulling my jeans down, and the gentle kiss has grown into a smouldering mess of heat and desperation.

I realize this is the first time we've _properly _done ... anything. The process of taking off clothes, kissing, the _anticipation_, the excitement_ ... _We've never gotten that far.

I groan, as Santana begins rubbing me through my boxers. I love that I can feel her smiling as we kiss. The kiss is so heated, that I don't realize that she is taking off my boxers until I hear them fluttering to the floor. My heart pounds in my chest.

"Have I ever told you? I love it when you call me baby." Her voice is sultry, as she tries to distract me from what just happened.

For the first time ever, I am fully naked in front of another person.

Even with Kurt, pants were pushed aside. I realize now, that that was a resemblence of the instability in our relationship. But I can't dwell on that.

Because, not only am I completely naked, but I am completely naked in front of _Santana Lopez. _My first ever girlfriend. The girl that I have, unintentionally, unconsciously, _hopelessly _fallen in love with. The girl who I fantasize about, the girl whose breasts I could kiss forever. _Girl. _

Wow.

Her earlier words echo in my head, '_It'll all happen over time._' I am about to open my mouth, and ask why I'm naked if we're not having sex, but Santana answers my question, by pulling away from my eager lips.

She sits up straighter, her eyes roaming hungrily over my exposed skin. Butterflies flutter through my stomach as she begins trailing kisses down my chest, still smiling that wicked smile.

_Oh god._

She twines her fingers through mine, squeezing my hand tightly. My smile turns into a shiver, as she pauses to kiss the contour of my hip bone. My hips are already bucking forward with excitement, and with a jolt, I remember what she said before. _You can't come until I tell you to._

_Oh fuck. God. _

In a rush of heat, blind pleasure, and complete ecstasy, her lips find my hard cock. A loud groan rips through my mouth, and when Santana chuckles softly, it vibrates through my entire body - already causing the heat to flash through my pelvis.

"Jesus," I gasp. "Are you .. _trying _to ... kill me?" Already, I am panting. Already, I am shuddering every time her tongue trails along my length. _Already,_ I can feel the heat pooling in the pit of my stomach.

God. Jesus. Shit. Fuck. Christ.

"Santana ... "

Instead of speaking, she begins sucking in earnest. Her wet lips cover me, and her tongue begins stroking me softy. Her fingers are still grasping my hands, and I resist the urge to pull away, and twine my hands through her hair.

The heat of her mouth against my throbbing cock is almost enough to send me over the edge. _Almost ... _

Santana squeezes my hands and begins sucking harder, moving her head ever so slightly, letting out soft little moans that send vibrations exploding through my body. _Oh god, I want to ... _

Her tongue if flicking over the tip of my hard shaft, teasing me with gentle brushes instead of the firm power that I'm craving ...

Her lips envelop me. Her mouth is hot, wet. When her tongue trails up and down, I groan inadvertently, bucking my hips forward. She laughs in earnest, before taking her hands away from mine. Suddenly, not only are her lips covering the top of my dick, but her fingers are lacing around the base squeezing gently, moving slowly ...

"_Oh fuck._" I lace my fingers through her hair. "I ... Can't."

Her hand begins moving faster, pumping slowly, and her tongue is brushing against my hot skin, in hard, wet strokes ... I want to warn her, and tell her that I can't hold on for much longer. She's _everywhere. _Hot lips, soft hands, wet tongue ...

I can't.

I just can't. She feels so good. So ...

"Santana! I'm ... " More licking. "Going ... " Her hand pauses, before gripping me harder. "To ... " _Fuck. _She hollows her cheeks, pulling me into her mouth, twirling her tongue around my length.

_Ohfuckyes. God, jesus, motherfucking ... ! Oh man, that feels so. good. _

I let out a strangled yell, trying to suppress the urge to thrust my hips into her mouth. My body shakes, and my head falls back, as an animalistic moan explodes through my body. _God dammit. _

Her hand continues to move, and her tongue laps up and down, licking me clean as I spill into her mouth. She giggles, and it sends aftershocks pulsating through my body.

I growl as her lips slide off me, and she crawls up to kiss me.

_Oh._

I can taste myself in her mouth. _Wow. _

Her tongue slips against mine, and she cups my cheeks in her hands. My mind reels, and I smother her with my eager lips.

I've never tasted myself before.

Not even with Kurt.

I pull away from her, letting my hand slide down the curve of her body. She smiles. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come ... I was meant to wait ... " My breath is still a little uneven. "I just ... couldn't ... "

She kisses me again, and I roll her over. Already, my fingers are inching along the flimsy strap of her red camisole.

"Don't worry. You can make it up to me." She murmurs, in between smothering me with kisses.

So that's exactly what I do.


	22. Distractions

**A/N: Sorry if this sucks. I'm suffering Post Potter Depression. That's completely irrelevant, but whatever! I just needed to write _something_ so here it is! Also, in this strange universe, the Kurtofsky kiss did in fact happen - that is relevant!**

**Anyways, I hope this is somewhat enjoyable!**

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><p><strong>Blaine Anderson:<strong>

Santana slumps on my chest, exhausted. I have no words to describe the beautiful feeling of her body against my naked one ... It's blissful, exciting, _right._

And so fucking tempting.

Her head is slumped against my sweaty chest, and her fingers are unconsciously stroking my arm. I shiver under her touch, leaning down to kiss her, just softly. She looks up at me, with lazy eyes.

"You know, I've never _ever _laid in a bed with someone who's _naked_, and not had sex," She mumbles sleepily.

"Oh, gee. Maybe we should have sex then." I grin, winking at her.

"Blaine, you know what I think. We should wait until we're both - "

A noisy buzz snaps Santana's attention away from me, and she looks over at her phone vibrating on the bedside table. "I have to get that," She says, sitting up and itching under her bra strap. "It might be my advisor."

"Since when do teachers call you at dinner time?" I mutter, but Santana is already talking into her phone, ignoring me.

I sigh, and run a hand through my messy hair. _That's cool, I didn't want to talk about sex anyway. _God. It's like, every time we begin talking about it, something interrupts us. The thing is, I want her more than I've ever wanted anyone.

And, I want her to want me too. I want it to happen, because it feels so right. And, jesus, I want us to talk about it.

"Yes, _thankyou_! ... Sure, it won't be a problem ... Okay, I'll see you then. Bye!" Santana hangs up the phone, and turns to face me, smiling widely.

"Who was that?" I ask, feigning interest.

"It was Miss Cambell - you know, the woman who took my audition at the Conservatory of Music. She said she wanted to talk to me about recording a demo disk." Santana leans forward, and cups my cheeks in her hands, kissing me deeply. "Thank you, Blaine." She murmurs softly. "For giving me this opportunity. That brochure changed everything."

I sigh. "It was the least I could do. You're an amazing singer, you may as well embrace it, Santana."

She laughs, looking slightly embarrassed. _Santana_? Embarrassed? That's new. "Okay, well I'll see you later on. I might be late, so don't wait up - "

"What?" I sit up straighter, pulling the excess sheet around me. "Where are you going?"

Santana stops pulling her tank top over her head and turns to face me. "Oh, Miss Cambell invited me out for coffee - I know it's late, but I want to hear more about this demo disk. You don't mind, do you?"

_Well, yes. Of course I mind._

"No, not at all." I force a smile. "I'm happy for you. We'll continue this conversation tomorrow, yeah?" I say pointedly.

Santana nods, distracted by which jeans to wear. "Yeah, Blaine. Of course." She places a quick kiss on my forehead, before hurrying out the door.

I slump onto the bed, letting out a groan. _Why can't she just stay at home with me?_

* * *

><p>I don't realize that I've actually done it, until Kurt's voice is speaking on the other end of the phone. "Hello?"<p>

I swallow dryly. _Why on earth am I calling him? _"Hey," I say softly. "It's Blaine."

"I knew that," Kurt chirps. "I have called ID. What's up?"

"Oh," I stammer, thinking desperately of what to say. _Dude. Why the hell did I dial his number? _"I was wondering if you, ah, wanted to come over?"

Kurt is silent for a moment. "Um ... Why?"

"I ... I want to talk. Thing's are kind of sucky right now, and I could use a friend." The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"Okay, Blaine. I'm coming over." The line goes dead before I can reply. I groan, slapping my forehead.

I hate that I called Kurt without thinking about it. And, I hate that the only reason I called him - the only reason my fingers unconsciously dialled his number - is because I knew, I just _knew_, that he'd drop everything, to come and see me.

God. I'm such a horrible person.

* * *

><p>"And, she left! Just like that! Just before we started properly <em>talking<em> about, well ... You know!" I shovel some popcorn into my mouth, as the menu screen of Love Actually plays over and over again.

Instead, of actually pressing play, Kurt and I are just demolishing all the popcorn, and bitching. Well ... I'm bitching, mostly. But he's listening. That counts, _right_?

"You know what, Blaine?" Kurt asks.

"What?"

"This is what you get." I raise an eyebrow, and Kurt grins. "This is what you get for cheating on me. For letting yourself fall for Santana. For being with a _girl. _They're crazy. Moody. You never know what they're thinking. You bought it all upon yourself." Even though Kurt is joking around, I can see that slight annoyed scowl on his lips.

"I can deal with that," I say softly. "I just ... I can't deal with this lack of communication. Sex is a big thing, you know? And, if we never talk about it, then I'm afraid it might never happen ... "

"Blaine?"

"Yes, Kurt?"

"I'm going to ask you something, and you have to _promise _not to hate me for it, okay?" Kurt is facing me directly, and I can see that look in his eye. That look that says:_ I'm going to be honest here, so you should shut up and listen._

"Okay ... ?" I say, uncertainly.

"Is ... Could it be that ... The only reason you're dating Santana, is ... So ... You can have sex with her?"

"What? _No_!" I explode. "No way! I'll wait for her forever, if that's what she wants! I'm perfectly content with _not _having sex, if that's what she wants to do ... I just don't get it, you know? She's had sex with all these other people - none of which she's willing to tell me about, by the way - yet, it seems almost like ... She doesn't _want _to with me."

Kurt frowns. "Have you ever thought that maybe ... Maybe the reason she doesn't want to have sex is _because _she cares for you? She wants to do things right?"

"Oh." I say quietly. "I didn't think of that."

Kurt smiles smugly. "Of course you didn't."

"What about you, anyway?" I ask, giving him a friendly bump of the shoulder. "How's Karofsky? How was your date?"

Kurt smiles. "Good," He says quietly. "He's really good."

"Oh god," I groan. "Please don't make me beg."

"Huh?"

"I'm going to need more than 'he's good' Kurt! This is a prime bitching session here! You need to tell me everything!"

"Are you sure you're not still gay, Blaine Anderson?" Kurt asks with a raised eyebrow.

"No!" I say. "Why would you say that?"

"We're sitting on the couch, watching Love Actually - well, watching the menu screen - and you just referred to this as a 'bitching session.'"

"I'm dating Santana." I say in a hard voice.

"Okay," Kurt says sceptically. If I look hard enough, I can see a flash of anger in his eyes. But I choose to ignore it. "Well ... If you must know, I kissed him."

"You kissed Karofsky?"

"_Yes._" Kurt sighs. "Why is that so shocking?"

"Well, Kurt, after everything that happened in high school ... " My voice trails off dubiously.

"_High School. _Exactly, Blaine. We were young, confused. You wouldn't believe how many times he apologized." Kurt straightens up proudly. "He was the perfect gentleman."

I smile weakly. "I'm happy for you Kurt," I say softly. "You know that, right?"

Kurt nods sadly. "I know, Blaine. I know."


	23. Progress

**A/N: Ever heard that saying, 'the calm before the storm'? Yeah, I have a feeling that this is it, because I already have the next chapter mapped out, and all I can say is: angst, angst, angst! **

**Anyway, enjoy!(:**

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><p><strong>Blaine Anderson:<strong>

"We never ... had sex." My confession lingers in the air of the warm bedroom. And it feels good to say it out loud, because _hey_, we're talking about _it_! That's a good thing, right?

Santana's bare legs are sprawled across my lap, as she rests her head on my bare chest. My Spiderman tee-shirt hangs off her, exposing the curve of her tanned shoulder. It's quite distracting knowing that she's naked under that - _my _- shirt.

What's even more distracting is the fact that I can still taste her in my mouth. If I close my eyes, I can still feel her writhing against my tongue, her fingers dragging through my hair ...

Yes. Tonight has definitely been about progress. I'm still ridiculously turned on, but if it means that we finally get to have 'the sex talk' then I can deal with a little frustration.

"You mean, like ... butt sex?" She raises an eyebrow, and I nod, laughing a little at her description.

"I think we were both scared," I blurt out. Inside, I'm embarrassed, but I figure, the more I tell her, the more she'll tell me. "Of course, we did other things ... _A lot _of other things. But, yeah. We were both too afraid to hurt each other when it came to _that._"

"You know, Puckerman wanted to do that with me once," She says casually, tugging at a loose thread on the hem of my shirt. "I think he's a little bit homo."

"He ... _What_?" I splutter.

"He wanted to fuck me from behind."

"Oh god. You didn't, did you?" I try to suppress the horror in my voice.

"Of course not!" She says, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, but I just ain't down with that."

"What ... What _did_ you guys do?" I ask tentatively.

"Uh uh, Blaine. You're not getting out of it that easily! You have to tell me about you and Kurt did first!"

"That's not fair!" I object. "Especially after what I just did for you ... " I wink, and Santana just smiles.

"Hey, you wanted to learn, so I taught you! That's no favour for me, buddy."

"You weren't saying that five minutes ago ... " I grin. "_Oh, Blaine ... Right there ... Yeah, harder!_"

"That sounds nothing like me, Anderson."

I raise an eyebrow. "_Anderson, _is it? Okay, Lopez."

She punches me lightly on the arm. "Just tell me, Blaine."

"Okay," I think back to all those times with Kurt, sweating under blankets, hurried hand jobs in school toilets, suppressed moans in the back of the movie theatre ... It was all such a _hurry _with him. We never stopped to really enjoy the moment. "_God_," I grin as one particular memory floats through my mind. "I remember the first time he gave me head. In the back of my car. Oh, it was so messy, but thrilling. When I ... Came, well he ... He didn't quite swallow it all, and - "

Santana shudders. "Okay, ew. Too much information."

"Sorry," I grin. "It's funny though, because ... It's like ... Once we _started _with the physical things - you know, more than just making out - we didn't _stop. _We didn't take a moment to breathe, or really savour it - you know, embrace the small things. The feeling of skin on skin, sweet kisses ... All that jazz. We just ... Yeah."

Santana nods along, listening intently. "You know, before you, I'd never had an orgasm with a guy." She says casually, emphasizing the word _guy. _

"So, you'd had one with a girl?"

Santana raises an eyebrow in a look that says: _You're seriously asking that? _"And, if you must know, I've had sex with six guys."

I suppress the flash of insecurity that burns through me. Because, seriously. _How am I meant to compete with _six _other guys?_ When, before her, I'd never even been _interested _in girls. "And you didn't enjoy it? With any of them? Not one?"

"Well, I haven't had sex with you yet, have I?"

My mouth goes dry. "God, you're such a tease."

She shrugs. "But, you love it, so who cares?"

"You know ... If you don't want to have sex with me, that's okay," I say quietly.

"Why wouldn't I want to?" She asks dubiously.

I shrug. "In case you ... I don't know, in case you still thought I had feelings for Kurt, or something."

"Do you?" She asks, quirking her mouth up into a bemused smile.

Instead of answering, I drag her lips against mine, and I can feel her laughing a little, because, _hey, _ten minutes ago this tongue was inexpertly flicking between her legs, making her scream.

"I'm glad we had this conversation," She mumbles through my lips.

I pull her against my chest, and she wraps her legs around me, pushing me further into the bed. Her tongue darts in between my lips, before she pulls away to trail kisses along my neck. "I want you," Santana's voice is husky in my ear. "I want all of you. And ... Sex. I want it with you."

I sit up, pushing her away so I can look in her eyes. I struggle to keep my voice steady. "Really?" She nods once. "When?" I ask, forcing my heart rate to slow.

"_Soon_," She drags my lips against hers. "Please, soon."

I am only too happy to oblige.


	24. Speed Dial

**A/N: I wrote this yesterday, but the website is being a whore and won't let me log in on my computer, so I'm on my sister's. Also, I know I'm the most irregular updater ever - it must drive you guys crazy! Also, this chapter is a bit rubbish, but it's necessary for the rest of the story. You've been warned! **

**Anyway, enjoy!(:**

* * *

><p><strong>Blaine Anderson: <strong>

_Thank god it's Friday._

I walk through door just in time to catch Santana smapping her phone shut and slamming it down on the kitchen table. After hearing the door open, she whirls around and stares at me. Her eyes are wide, and her lip is twisted into an angry scowl. Her cheeks are flushed, as if she's just been yelling.

"What's - "

"Don't," She cuts me off holding a hand up to stop me talking, before she turns to face the sink. "Don't bother."

I stare at her as she begins crashing the dirty dishes into the soapy water. "Did I do something wrong?" I say to her tank-top laden back.

"No," She snaps. "I'm just grumpy, okay?" She slams a glass down on the sink, and I cringe away from the loud noise.

I hate those sounds of banging and crashing. Ever since I was a child and my parent's used to scream at each other from across the house, smashing plates, and throwing things - I can't stand it. Santana _knows _that.

"Fine," I mutter, heading towards the shower. "Sorry to hear you had a bad day."

* * *

><p>The crashing continues long after my shower. We eat pizza in silence, before Santana begins crashing about the house again. I begin to twitch every time she slams a plate, or book onto the table.<p>

"What the hell is wrong, Santana?" I burst out, four hours later. "It's Friday, I thought we could watch a movie, maybe ... Yeah. But you're just freaking out!"

"I'm allowed to be grumpy sometimes, Blaine. Jesus. I can't always be Happy-Go-Lucky Santana just because you want me to!" She folds her arms across her chest defensively.

"I wasn't saying that!" I yell, stepping closer to her. "Baby, tell me what's wrong. I want to help," I murmur, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Besides, you're kinda hot when you're angry ... "

She jerks away. "I'm exhausted Blaine, and you're not helping." She turns away and her voice is hard.

I cringe as she slams her bedroom door behind her. For the first time in three months, Santana sleeps in her own bed.

* * *

><p>It feels odd waking up alone.<p>

I stretch out, yawning loudly, before I realize that the house is silent. Santana's already gone. _What the hell_? She _always _says goodbye. Usually, she makes sure to give me a long, lingering kiss, just to be a tease. But ... Apparently not today. It's Saturday, so she's not at school. Since the Wal-Mart fiasco, she hasn't bothered to get a new job. So, I have no idea where she's gone.

I'll be damned if I let this get to me, though. It's my day off and there's no way I'm going to spend it being upset because my girlfriend is grumpy. No. And, I've done nothing wrong, _right_? She'd tell me if I'd done something to upset her ... right?

Right?

Before I know it, my fingers are curling around my phone, and I am pressing the number 1 on speed dial.

* * *

><p>"You know, I'm not going to come over every time you call me, Blaine Anderson." Kurt bursts through the front door, brushes past me, landing swiftly on the couch. "Even if we were in love, once upon a time."<p>

"I know," I sigh, closing the door, and sitting down next to him.

"You're lucky Dave has work, or else I wouldn't be here," Kurt continues tartily.

I frown at him. The excess anger from earlier seems to bubble up through my voice. "Oh. Is that so?"

"It most certainly is," Kurt nods defiantly. "Dave is my boyfriend now." He meets my eyes in a challenging expression.

"Really?" I ask tightly. Kurt nods again, and I force a smile. "Well ... I'm happy for you."

Kurt notices my tight voice, and he frowns as he takes in my crumpled expression. "No you're not," He says quietly. "You're upset ... _Why_?"

I shake my head. "No, Kurt. I'm - "

"Uh huh." Kurt shifts over and pats my thigh. "I told you that Dave was my boyfriend, and you looked angry. Why?"

"I was angry before that," I mumble. "That's why I called you."

"_Why_?"

"Santana's grumpy. I feel like I've done something wrong."

"Well, _have _you?" Kurt asks bluntly.

"Like what?" I burst out. "I've been nothing but good to her, Kurt!"

Kurt cringes away, before releasing his grip on my thigh. "Well ... Don't stress too much about it, Blaine." He says softly. "Come on, let's watch a movie. It'll take your mind off things."

* * *

><p>Santana comes home at around six. Kurt and I have slowly been making our way through the latest True Blood series when she bursts through the front door. We both turn from the couch, and her wide eyes flicker from me and back to Kurt. I open my mouth to speak, but she whirls in the direction of her room, muttering under her breath.<p>

Kurt and I both flinch at the sound of her slamming bedroom door.

"I should go," He says softly, lifting his head from my shoulder and getting to his feet.

I jump to my feet too. "But we were just about to see Eric naked! Kurt, I know how much you love naked Eric, don't deny it!"

Kurt grins. "As tempting as that is Blaine, I feel like I'm intruding. Don't worry, we'll see each other soon." He turns to leave, but I grab his arm.

"_Don't_," I say desperately. "You shouldn't have to go just because my girlfriend is in shitty mood." My voice stumbles over the word _Girlfriend_ before I continue. "We're friends, Kurt." I can't seem to suppress the hopefulness in my voice. "We _are _friends, right? Even though you have Dave now, and I messed up our relationship, I still consider you my best - "

"Of course we're friends, Blaine." He interrupts softly. "But, a majority of my best friends - other than you, of course - are girls. I may be gay, but I know _a lot _about women." He pauses to smile reassuringly. "Look, I hear them bitching, I put up with their insane mood swings, and I bring them chocolate early in the morning. They have this thing ... _PMS. _Santana's probably got it," Kurt shrugs. "It's best if I get out of the picture."

"This isn't fair ... " I sigh.

"Welcome to the life of dating a girl," Kurt shrugs with a sad smile. "_G. I. R. L. _They aren't as simple as boys, you know. See you around, Blaine."

I close the door behind Kurt, and rest my head against it, letting out a shuddery breath. If I listen hard enough, I hear Kurt's soft breathing on the other side, and I know he's doing the same. A few minutes pass before I hear his footsteps reluctantly making their way down the hallway.

My head snaps up and I hear Santana yelling about having no hot water.

_This is _not _what I signed up for._


	25. Sure

**A/N: Two updates in one day! I am most definitely in procrastinating mode!**

**_Angsty, Angst, Angst ... _  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Blaine Anderson:<strong>

"Blaine ... "

I turn away from the front door to see Santana is leaning against the kitchen table - wearing one of my old shirts and only her underwear. My eyes rake over her bare legs, and I swallow dryly. _No. _I won't let her distract me.

I open my mouth to reply, but she strides across the room, and throws her arms around my neck. Before I can say a word, her lips are against mine. She kisses me desperately, tangling her hands in my hair, pushing her hips against mine.

I can't help it when my hands snake around her waist, searching for skin, stroking her under my oversized shirt. My thumbs are hooked in the waistband of her underwear, forcing her closer to me. And her hips are rubbing against mine as she slides her tongue against my lips.

I push her against the table, and she wraps her legs around me, pressing into semi-hard swell in my jeans. I continue kissing her, because _hello sweet friction. _Her chest presses against mine - and she's not wearing a bra. _Oh man._

I pull away, panting slightly. "You can't just do that!"

"What?" She gasps, pulling away.

"Be all mad, and then just think everything's okay just because you're kissing me." She raises her eyebrows dubiously, and I continue. "I want an explanation for why you were so upset last night! And you can't just treat Kurt like that. He's my friend - things are finally okay between us. I don't want - "

"No, Blaine, not okay!" Santana yells, shoving me away and jumping off the table. "If you saw me curled up on the couch with Puckerman, or Brittany, you'd get mad!"

"No I wouldn't. Besides you were mad before - "

"_Yes! _You would be mad! You'd hate to see me with any of my ex's - don't deny it Blaine! In fact, it's worse - because you could just be confused! What if ... " Her voice chokes up, and she drags the hem of my shirt further down her thighs - I recognize it as one of her nervous habits. "What if _I'm _the faze, Blaine? What if I'm the experiment? What if _Kurt _is your permanent solution? What if he's the one you love?"

"_No_," I breathe. "Where the hell is this coming from, San?" My shaking hands reach for her, but she pulls away. "I don't understand why you're acting like this. I love _you. _Kurt is my friend, though. And you can't just be rude towards him - I don't even deserve his friendship."

She lets out an angry shriek. "You are _fucking _kidding me, right? You're deluded if you think friendship is the only reason Kurt was here tonight. He still _loves _you, Blaine! Dangling Karofsky in your face? Obviously, he's trying to make you jealous. Yeah, _I know _about that!"

_Oh god._

"You're crazy," I step away, holding up my hands. "It's like you're looking for any excuse to fight with me."

"And you keep giving me reasons to!"

"Whatever." I shake my head. "Talk to me when you get off your period."

* * *

><p>I'm sitting sullenly on the couch, arms folded across my chest, when Santana storms back into the lounge room. My excitement from our angry make out session has disappeared completely. I have a headache, and I just want to <em>stop fighting<em>.

"I can't do this if you don't trust me Santana," I mutter, standing up and meeting her gaze.

"I _do _trust you, Blaine! But, what if I'm not good enough?"

"You _are! _Why can't you understand that? God, why do you keep jumping to assumptions - " I stutter through my words, trying to force them out of my mouth all at once.

"I'm _not_ making assumptions! I had a perfectly good reason to be mad about Kurt - "

"No, you didn't!" I explode, ignoring the pounding in my head. "You were angry before that! _Remember? _You'd been fucking banging an crashing since last night when I got home from work! What had I even done wrong? Why are you in such a bad mood? Who was on the phone when I came in? _Huh?_"

"It doesn't - "

"Matter? Obviously it does!" I yell. "Tell me, Santana. Who was on the phone? Who upset you?"

"It's not like I can change it anyway!" She bursts out. "I have no fucking control anymore. Do you know how that feels? I was _always _in control, Blaine - and now ... Now everything is exploding, and I can't do a thing about it!"

"Was it Brittany?" I ask. "What did she say, Santana?"

"No, it wasn't Brittany." Santana says bitterly.

"Then who? Who was on the phone?"

"Maybe I'm just a bitch, Blaine!"

My brain is screaming at me. Because she is blatantly _ignoring _my question."_No, _you're not a bitch. You're Santana! You're passionate! There's a difference, you know!"

"Maybe you don't know me at all - "

"You've _got _to be kidding me! I fucking know you better than _anyone_! You know it, I know it - we _all _know it! I. Love. You." My voice is shaking, and I keep my gaze locked with Santana's the whole time.

She drags her eyes away from mine, staring down into the carpet and throwing her hands across her chest defensively. "Maybe this was a mistake," She mumbles.

I'm about to continue my rant, when my eyes bulge out as I realize what she's just said. "What are you saying?" I ask in a hard voice. Already, my hands are shaking. I shove them deep in my pockets. Santana looks away bluntly, so I step forward, resting my hand below her chin, and forcing her to meet my eyes. She stares at me, gnawing at her bottom lip.

"We didn't talk, we didn't do this properly," Her voice quavers slightly, and she looks away. "Maybe we rushed into things. Jesus. You expect me to tell you about the phone call, when - "

I jump away from her, like I've just been electrocuted. "I can't believe you!" I yell, kicking the table. "You're making no sense! Santana, who was the one that punched your fucking boss? _Me. _Who was there for you when you found out Brittany was pregnant? _Me. _You have _no _idea what it was like to realize that _I'm in love with a girl! _Goddamit. And now ... ? Now, I don't even know who I am without you! And here you are screaming me about ... _What_? A phone call?" I grab the pillow off a chair, and throw it across the room. It hits the lamp in the loungeroom, sending it crashing to the floor. "I fucking _love _you! So much it - "

"This isn't about that!" Santana yells, dragging a hand through her hair.

"Then what the fuck is it about?"

"Jesus, you don't get it, Blaine! You don't get anything!" She picks up her wallet and storms into her bedroom.

"Where are you going?" I ask desperately, following her.

"_Away_," She drags on a pair of jeans, and tucks my shirt into them. The thrown-together look suits her, and I just want to pull her into my arms and kiss her, and show her how much I love her, and ... "I can't do this anymore, Blaine!"

"Santana, what - "

"No," She cuts me off.

"I love you." I say desperately.

She stares at me for a long moment. "How can you be sure?"

I am sure, though.

_I just am._


	26. Hurt

**A/N: Okay, long authors note. **

**First of all: a HUGE thank you to the reviewer ****AbiSnocom**** who has damn near reviewed every chapter! You've had me in fits of laughter with some of your responses! I love it! **

**And, secondly: Please don't hate me for what's about to happen. I can tell you guys are going to get mad at the next two chapters, but just remember, it has to get worse before it can get better. And things will get better, I promise! I'll post the next chapter straight away, because it would be cruel to keep you guys hanging ... **

**Okay, and ... Breathe!(: **

* * *

><p><strong>Blaine Anderson:<strong>

"No, Kurt. It's serious. She just walked out, and - " I pause, as Kurt lets out a giggle that's girly even by his standards. My shoulder cradles the phone and I dig my spoon into the half-eaten jar of Peanut Butter. "Kurt, what are you laughing at?"

"Stop it, baby ... " Kurt's voice is husky, and_ so_ obviously not directed at me. Oh god, that's his bedroom voice!

"Is Karofsky with you?" I ask sharply, spooning the Peanut Butter into my mouth grumpily.

"Ah yeah," Kurt lets out another laugh, and I hear the distinct sound of a kiss. _Of course. Of fucking course. _"I'm going to have to go, Blaine. But things will work out, I promise."

"Yeah, whatever. I have to go to work anyway - " I start in a hard voice, but Kurt hangs up the phone without saying another word.

I groan, and let my head slump against the kitchen cupboard. How could everything turn from great to shit so quickly?

I just want it to stop.

I just want her.

* * *

><p>Although I would much rather ignore what she said, I tell Jackson - my manager - about Santana's suggestion. Because - even if I am mad right now - it is a <em>good<em> idea, and I'd be stupid not to at least propose it_._ I don't want this shop to shut down, and I'll do anything I can to prevent that.

Of course, he latches on to the idea immediately: A book store _and _live music - like _she_ said, _what more could people want?_

So Jackson stays around until closing time, asking customers about their opinion. As expected, everyone responds enthusiastically. Most importantly, he promises that if this idea happens and business picks up, he'd be willing to consider me as a business partner.

So yeah, I want to be happy. I want to get excited as well, because _hey, I'll get to keep my job - _and working with live bands will be kinda cool_. _I might even do some shows myself ...Ultimately, this could be very good for me.

But all I can think about is Santana.

I'm hopeless. Because ... I miss her. I miss everything. Waking up alone was the worst thing. I feel ... Empty. As clichéd, weak and lame as it is ... I just want her to come _home. _To me.

God. Why can't she just say what's on her mind instead of dancing around it? Why are we even fighting?

Most of all, I just want to know _who was on that phone. _Because, deep down, I know that _that's _why she's upset. I know Santana. I _know _her. And I know that this fight between us - her arguing - it's self protection. She's protecting me from whatever was said in that phone call.

I just ... I don't know if I can handle it much longer.

* * *

><p>"<em>Coz she isn't there to hold your hand ... "<em> The lyrics blast through the house, and I turn up the volume another notch. Music is my only escape. _"She won't be waiting for you when you land ... "_

My head falls back on the couch, and I groan loudly. _Why_?

Everything was going so _great! _Why do things have to be all messed up now? I want to be celebrating with Santana right now - I want to kiss her, and tell her that she's amazing, and smart, and beautiful, and I love her.

_God_, I love her.

After coming home to an empty house, I've realized that all I want to do is fix this. Whatever it is. I just want Santana back. I want her kisses, and her lips, and -

" ... _Blaine!_" My head snaps around, and _there _she is. She's standing in the door way fuming, but she's _here_. She's back. I jump to my feet. "I've been calling your name for the past ten minutes!" Her hands are on her hips, and her expression is defiant - but she is _here._ She's home.

"Did you hear - "

"You singing awfully along with the Arctic Monkeys? Yes." She nods curtly, and I grin sheepishly.

"Sorry, I - "

"What's going on with us?" Santana's voice is dead serious, and my smile fades.

"You'd know," The words slip from my mouth before I can pull them back - and they are coated in attitude that definitely wasn't intentional.

"Blaine, I - "

"_No_," I cut her off. "You can't just do that to me, Santana! All jokes aside, it broke my heart to wake up without you this morning! I love you, you know?" My voice chokes up. "I'm _attached _to you now, don't you get it? You can't just leave like that for no reason - "

"There was a reason!"

"Then _what_? What made you mad?" The blaring music seems to disguise the distinct shake in my voice.

"Seeing you with Kurt - how comfortable you were ... Okay. Look. Tell me this, Blaine: How is it that _you _managed to talk your way out of cheating on your boyfriend, magically transforming your sexuality and falling in love with your _female_ roommate - then still have Kurt as your best friend? While I can't _look _at Brittany anymore, because she doesn't see me! I'm not even a speck of dust on her radar! She's _pregnant, _Blaine! And I'm meant to be there for her, but instead - I'm with you. Because you're all I have left!"

_Oh. _

"God, you sound like you're still in love with her or something!" I slam blindly at the stereo, until my fingers find the _off _button. The music cuts out, and tense silence rings across the room.

Santana arcs an eyebrow. "Ex_cuse_ me?"

"You know what I think? I think you're jealous. You're jealous that I can still be friends with Kurt, while you lost Brittany! I should've known that this has nothing to do with some stupid phone call! Santana - "

"Now hold on just a second. It has _everything _to do with that stupid phone - "

"Will you just shut up, so I can - "

"Don't you_ dare_ tell me to shut up, Blaine Anderson - "

"Fuck!" I yell, slamming my fist down onto the table. "I can't_ stand_ you right now! Jesus, would it _kill _you to let someone else talk? Or, is it all about you?"

"_Fuck you._"

"No. That's not good enough."

"You know what? I'm done." She throws her hands up and turns away.

"Stop it!" I yell. I grab her arm, and pull her against me.

It takes a minute of blind struggles and yelling, until I am crushing my lips against hers. My hands cup her cheeks, dragging her closer to me. I'm shoving my tongue in her mouth, letting our bodies smash together. Our tongues duel furiously, and it almost takes my breath away when she bites down hard on my bottom lip.

I pull away, gasping for breath. "I love you, God_damit_! We are _never_ done, okay?" My voice is booming, sounding angrier than I've ever sounded. "You get it? We're never _going_ to be done! This is _real_! So don't you _ever _try and tell me different, Santana!"

She pushes me away. "How can I trust you though?"

"Oh my _god_! _Why aren't you listening to me? _Fuck! No wonder Brittany doesn't want to be your friend anymore - you refuse to _listen _to anyone!"

Santana's face goes slack. I slam my hand over my mouth, but already I can see the effect my words have had on her.

"I _hate_ you." Her voice is strangled, and she storms through the kitchen in a blind rage, shoving passed me.

My body is frozen, until the sharp crash of the front door slams makes me jerk. And I am left alone.

That's when I break down into tears.


	27. Forget

**A/N: Okay, as promised, here's the next chapter straight away! Because I don't want to leave you guys with bad feelings, as well as being a chapter tease! But please don't hate me for this! **_**I always intended for something like this to happen**_** - and, I **_**promise**_** that things will be okay again within the next two chapters!**

**Again, please don't hate me! Also, this is from Santana's POV!**

* * *

><p><strong>Santana Lopez:<strong>

My feet take me in the direction of Puck.

Of course I go there - where else can I go? Not Brittany. _God, no. _Quinn wouldn't understand. The girls from work hate me, and I hardly know anyone from my music lessons.

So, I run. Away from Blaine - away from everything that's safe, everything that's right. _Shit._ Why did he have to say that? Why did he mention _her_? Why did I have to _react _like that? I can't hate him ... I never could.

Inside, I'm breaking.

My mind flashes back to Brittany's sobbing confession, all those weeks ago. When I found out she was pregnant. It feels like so long ago ... I remember the way Blaine grabbed me in the hallway. _You're losing it San_ he'd said, before wrapping his warm arms around me, and putting me back together again. Because that's what Blaine does to me. He puts me back together.

_Oh god._

A sob wracks through my body, and an old nightwalker stares at me as I storm down the street, covering my mouth in a last attempt to stop the desperate hacking sobs escaping from my lips.

I can't pinpoint the moment when Blaine became more than just a boy. But somehow - some_where _along the way - he became everything. Because of him, _I'm_ everything ... And nothing.

_Fuck. Fuck fucking fuck! _

I'm stupid. I'm such an idiot. He was the one thing keeping me centred, keeping me _sane_, for fucks sake - and now what?

Have I thrown it all away? Have I _actually _lost the one thing that was good in my life? Because I'm stubborn and emotionally incapable of keeping a relationship together?

I can hardly distinguish the thoughts that are violently battling away in my mind. They're intangible explosions of colour: _fiery reds and angry blacks ... _

My shaking fist slams against Pucks front door. Oh god, _please please please _be home.

The door flies open, and Puck stands there staring at me with wide eyes. I stare back, with my fist still curled up and hanging in the air.

Shock colours his voice when he says: "What are - "

He is cut off when I throw my hands around his neck, pulling his lips against mine, kissing him ferociously. I can still taste Blaine in my mouth, and I just want him out. I want him gone. I just want to forget, _Dammit._

He jerks away. "Santana, I know you're with - "

I force myself through the doorway, spinning around and slamming Puck against the door, closing it in the process. _Forget. _I want to forget about Kurt Hummel.

I want to forget about him, and _fucking_ his phone call four days ago.

I want to forget what he told me, and I want to forget how he said it.

I want to forget that he was _trying to be nice. _I want to forget that _he is innocent!_

The sorrow in his voice.

That's what hurt the most. The fact that _he felt sorry for me. _

Kurt diva-of-the-year Hummel, felt sorry for _me. _

Why? Because of Blaine, of course. It's always Blaine. Blaine and that easy smile. Blaine and those precious lips. Blaine and his strong arms, and his warm hugs, and booming laugh ... And ... And ...

"Fuck," I mutter, dragging Puck closer to me. I need to _feel._

I need to forget.

Because for the _first _time in my life, I let someone in. I let them whisk me away, I let him make me _shine. _It's not meant to happen like that.

I'm not _meant _to fall in love.

And ... Maybe Kurt was right. _That _is what kills me inside. Maybe Blaine _is_ in denial. Kurt would know.

Puck shoves his hand around my waist, falling into the kiss. I can almost _pin point _the moment when he stops fighting the kiss. His lips crush against my own, whilst he simultaneously thrusts his hips into mine like only Puck can.

It's so different.

So _vastly _different from kissing Blaine.

_No. GODDAMMIT SANTANA - do _not_ compare them._

Pucks hips are grinding against mine, and his hand his desperately pressing under my tank top. Without speaking, without contemplating or weighing up the circumstances, I shove my hand down the waistband of his jeans. Of course, he is already hard. He groans, and pushes me harder into the wall, thrusting into my hand.

"I just want to forget," I mumble, desperately rubbing him. He just pants in response, and presses harder against me. I groan as his fumbling fingers find the waistline of my underwear. He slips inside without hesitation - well, it's not like he hasn't done it before. His fingers barely brush over my clit, before thrusting hard inside me.

He wants sex, I can -

For the first time, I realize there's music playing from inside Puck's bedroom. '_Welcome to the real world, she said to me ... Condescendingly.' _

My hand goes slack in his pants and I pull away from Puck, panting just a little. "_John Mayer_?" I stare at him, trying to catch my breath. "Oh my god, do you have a girl here, Puck?"

He quirks an eyebrow. "Ah ... "

"Jesus ... _shit._" My hand flies out of his pants, and I scramble away from him, desperately pulling at the zipper on my own jeans.

"Hey! You didn't exactly give me warning when you decided to practically fuck me against the wall! Besides, she's aslee - "

I shake my head. Just ... _Fuck. _

_What am I even doing?_

My feet are dragging me out of the apartment before Puck can get another word in.

* * *

><p>The waves crash against the sand, ruthless and relentless. They're angry, they're thundering ... They're <em>me. <em>

The damp sand soaks through my jeans, and the salty air is freezing at this time of night, but I can't move. I can't think, I can't feel, I can't _breathe._

I'm nothing.

Nothing.

_Did he ever actually _say _it, Santana ... ?_

No.

_I'm not trying to ruin your relationship with him, I swear._

Fuck.

_Look, I just think ... Maybe you rushed into things. Blaine is complicated - he's probably just confused, and I don't want you getting hurt when he comes back to me._

Shut up, just shut up!

Why did I listen? Why did I even _answer the phone_? God, if I'd ignored it, then none of this would have happened. Why did I lash out? Why did I take it out on Blaine?

Why couldn't I just press reject?

And why Blaine_? _Of all the people I could fall for, I fall for a _gay _guy.

_Why?  
><em>


	28. Never Letting Go

**A/N: Okay, my writing is shit this week. Lack of sleep. Can't complete sentences. But must update chapter before you guys kill me! Blame Pottermore. Crappy chapter is crappy, but it's better than nothing! **

**Enjoy!(:**

* * *

><p><strong>Blaine Anderson:<strong>

Santana doesn't come home.

More than once, my fingers are curling around my phone. So badly, I want to call her. I want to cry my heart out, and just _love _her. I want to apologize, because I really _should not _have said that.

Want, want, want. I just want her. That's all. _Want. _Is it really that hard?

_She doesn't hate me. She can't._

Despite my better judgments, I call Kurt. Of course, there's no answer. He's probably getting sucked off from Karofsky right at this minute. They're probably fucking like Kurt and I never did.

Well, good for them.

I'm about to collapse onto my bed – I can sleep and forget that tonight ever happened, but my eyes linger on a piece of paper crumpled on my bedside table.

It's Brittany's number - I remember I wrote it down the day after Santana and I kissed. Just … In case.

Without hesitation, I call it.

"Um ... Hello?"

"Brittany? It's Blaine," I say quickly. "I need to talk to you about Santana."

"Blaine Anderson? _Hello_!" Her voice lights up through the phone, and I sigh.

"Yes. Look, have you seen Santana?"

"Of course! She's got black hair, and really nice eyes ... "

"No, no. Have you seen her tonight?" I ask, rubbing my temple. There's silence. " ... Brittany?"

"I was shaking my head," She says matter-of-factly. "I haven't seen her since your party - you guys were kissing. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I'm pregnant - did you know that, Blaine?"

"Yeah, I knew that," I sigh. "Look, have you called her up over the last week or so? Or even talked to her?"

"Nope."

"Oh." _So the phone call wasn't Brittany. Then who the hell was it? _

There's silence for a long moment, and I let my head fall against the headboard of my bed.

"Brittany?"

"Yeah Blaine?"

"Do you miss her?" I ask quietly.

"Yeah," Brittany says quietly. "More than anything."

* * *

><p>Somehow, my feet keep taking me to the park opposite the book store. It's across the road from where Santana first kissed me in public. After work, before work, when I can't go to sleep … My feet take me there.<p>

Work is exhausting. For a week, I juggle renovators, and business men, and _customers everywhere. _They can see that something exciting is happening with the store, so they flock in - buying cooking books, autobiographies, _everything. _We'll be closing the store for two weeks, to carry out a few minor renovations – a stage, bigger floor space, bookshelves swept back against the walls – and, I have a meeting with my manager on Friday to see if I get the job as his business partner. We begin talking about potential bands and acts – we want to get someone well known on the first night after we open again to build our reputation.

But, never once do I feel happy.

I assume Santana's staying with someone from the Conservatory, but she hasn't contacted me yet and it's been four days.

God, I miss her.

So, here I am. It's nine o clock at night, and I'm sitting outside, in the pouring rain, letting the wetness soak through my clothes. I can't even feel it. I've never felt so alone in his life.

_Is this what love is meant to feel like?_

Everybody has somebody except me. Kurt has Karofsky, Brittany has whoever-the-father-of-her-kid-is, even my boss has is goddamn wife and kids.

I'm alone. _Why am I alone? _Santana should be here. She should be teasing me about my wet clothes, kissing me, making love to me ...

I sit on that bench, crying for a long time.

* * *

><p>It becomes a routine. Closing the shop, and going to the park. Sometimes the air is frosty and other times, the night is deadly still - no wind, no rain. Nothing. Winter is fast approaching and the weather is getting steadily colder. Most of the time, it just rains. At least that disguises my tears.<p>

Of course, nothing can really disguise the loud sobs that rip through my body every night.

Where is she? And why isn't she in my arms? That's where she belongs. Where else could be more important? It's like -

On the sixth night, a dark figure catches my attention.

My head snaps up, and I hastily wipe the tears from my wet face. It's rare for a walker to go this close to the park - it's mainly for children - and especially when it's pouring with rain on a night like tonight.

The figure is fast approaching. My eyes trail over a long pair of legs, lean hips, round breasts covered by a dark coat.

To say my heart stopped would be a lie. No, my heart is pounding. Thundering against my ribcage, slashing and thrashing, and just _freaking out._

It's Santana.

She's soaked. Her hair is dripping. Her cheeks flushed from the cold. Her coat, her short black skirt and her tights, the skin on her neck are clinging to her body - she's almost as wet as me.

She's crying too - even though it's raining, I can see the tears streaming down her cheeks. Is it odd that I can tell the difference between her tears, and rain?

"You never said it!" She yells over the noisy rain. "You never said it, so I never knew for sure."

"Said what?" I shakily get to my feet, suppressing the urge to throw my arms around the girl I love.

"That you weren't in love with him anymore!" A sob wracks through her body, and my heart breaks. "The night before we had that fight, Kurt called me. He asked if you'd ever said you weren't in love with him anymore, and ..."

"I hadn't." A gust of wind picks up my voice, carrying it across the dark, deserted park.

"I need to know Blaine," She is crying openly. "I need to know that you're not. I need to know that I'm ... I'm the only one. Because," She grips her hands into fists, forcing the words out of her mouth. "You're all I have Blaine. And it kills me to say it. But _you _are everything."

"Oh god," I throw my arms around her, shattering my frozen body. She lets out another sob, before leaning into me. I grab her tight, silently promising that I'll never let her go ever again. She's crying, and I'm crying, and we're falling apart.

But we're falling apart together.

"It's you Santana," I growl in her ear. "Only you. I'm not in love with Kurt. He understands that ... And if he doesn't, then fucking hell, I'll make him understand. I only want you, baby. _God_." Throwing caution to the wind, I kiss her desperately. I can feel the slick rain on her lips, and I can taste the salty tears that were trailing down her cheeks. "I love you. I love you so much Santana."

"I love you too," Her lips stifle anything else I was planning on saying. She kisses me violently, smothering me with those _perfect _lips. "I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm so, so, sorry. Please, I hope, one day ... You'll forgive me for all of this?"

I wrap my arms tight around her soaking body, kissing those sweet lips. "You're already forgiven, baby."

She presses maddeningly soft and teasing kisses to my neck and then back to my lips, and I arch up desperately fighting the urge to thrust my hips into hers. _God_, I just want her. I want all of her. I hated being apart – and I don't care if that makes me weak.

Santana pulls away, so our lips are barely brushing together, and we're just breathing each other's air as the rain soaks us through.

I'll never let her go again.


	29. Much Better

**A/N: No explanation necessary. Oh, don't look so shocked – you all knew it was coming. … Heh. Coming.**

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><p>Santana is peeling my soaked shirt from my wet skin before the front door is even closed. I'm kissing her desperately as her cold hands grip my hips, pulling me closer to her. The door slams shut, and we fall back against it with a thump. I pull away breathing hard, and my heart jumps as I realize she's still sobbing. I push her wet hair away from her face, wrapping my arms around her as I try to warm her up.<p>

"I did something stupid Blaine," She sobs into my soaked chest.

I pull her face up to meet mine, brushing my lips over hers. "It's okay, baby. I said you're forgiven - "

"No, no." When she untangles herself from my arms, it physically hurts to let her go. I _need _her close to me – I need all of her. "I kissed Puck."

For a moment, I am frozen. Santana's gaze is locked with mine, and I am staring at her, breathing hard. Suddenly, an explosion erupts through me. It's so powerful that my vision flashes black. I continue staring at her for one long moment, before my body unfreezes and I am kissing her again. I throw my arms around her, trapping her shivering body in between me and the door. I thrust my tongue in her mouth, yanking her coat from off her shoulders.

"But I love you," She sobs in between the kisses. "It was stupid. And it meant nothing. And I was thinking of you the whole time, and _god," _I pull away to drag her wet tank top over her shoulders. "Say something Blaine!" I continue kissing her for a long moment, letting my hands trail over the lace of her black bra, letting my fingers dip into the waist band of her tights. "_Blaine!_"

I grunt, and continue kissing her. "I don't want to talk," I place a wet kiss on her neck. "About Kurt, or Puck, or _anything_. I just want you Santana. Because I love you and I have _fucking_ missed you," I growl against her collarbone, and begin pulling her tights off her wet thighs.

"We're okay though, right?" She pulls away a little, with a very un-Santana like expression pulling at her lips. "I mean … We'll talk afterwards, right?"

"Yes," I twine my fingers through hers and reluctantly take my lips away from her neck. "Now, let's get warmed up."

* * *

><p>Santana's lips are crushing against mine as I reach blindly for the shower tap. "So, y-you're not mad?" She asks breathlessly, as I unfasten her bra. "About Puck?"<p>

Instead of answering, I pull her face towards mine, scraping her bottom lip with my tongue. "No. It was stupid. This whole fight – it was stupid." She looks down to unbuckle my belt, and I take the opportunity to attack her neck with kisses. "This is our fresh start, okay? We're starting clean. I love you forever, and that's not changing."

She pulls my belt through the loops hurriedly, and finally my hand clasps the _hot _tap. I kick my jeans off and across the room as hot water begins cascading over us. Santana's still wearing her black underwear, and I'm still in my boxers, but we're both too grateful for the rush of hot water that warms our shivering bodies to care about wet clothes.

"But what about - "

"_Stop_," I drag down my sopping wet boxers and kick them across the shower floor. "I'm _not _going to be mad about you kissing Puck. Santana, if loving you makes me weak then I'm guilty as charged. I can't stay angry, because I love you, baby. I love you too much."

In a swift movement, she pulls her underwear down her thighs, and kicks them away. The water is strong enough to be warming us both, and for one long moment, we just stare at each other hungrily, chests heaving.

My eyes rake over her naked body. Hair dripping hair, her breasts, her curve of her hips, her thighs, her … I swallow dryly as I feel myself beginning to harden at the sight of her. "Y-you're on the pill, right?" I ask hesitantly reaching out for her. If I start touching her now, I'm not going to be able to stop. It's now or never - and I need to make sure we stay safe.

"Yes, I - " But she never gets to finish that sentence, because I've pushed her against the shower wall. And, _oh wow. _I've never done this before.

Our bodies are slick from the water, and the feeling of her naked torso pressing against mine is maddening. Her fingers are trailing down my spine, and I grip her hips tighter, letting my tongue tickle the roof of her mouth. My heart is hammering against my chest, and the hot water is beginning to burn my skin. I push against her, and for the first time, we're both naked and I'm rubbing against her – unguarded by underwear, or pesky clothes … We're us.

Simply us.

"We're … We're going to have sex?" She pulls away from the kiss panting hard.

The burn in my stomach increases immensely at her words, and I know she can feel me fully hard against her thigh. "Do you … Do you want to?" I lift my face towards the jet stream of the shower and let the water fall against my face.

I wait for her response, but instead jerk at the feeling of her hand wrapping around my cock, she pushes me forward to the other wall of the shower, and I let my head fall back against it appreciatively. "Yes," She whispers as she begins pumping slowly. "Yes, I want to."

I groan as she leans forward to kiss me, keeping her grip around me tight. My hips are pushing against her hand, desperately searching for the friction that I crave so badly. My knees are weak, and I know that we're not going to be able to stay in the shower for much longer; the heat – of the kisses, the water and the handjob combined - is becoming unbearable.

I groan as she begins moving her hand faster, kissing me desperately, letting her free hand snake around the back of my neck to pull me in closer. Her tongue is licking my lips, dipping into my mouth, teasing my own tongue. My fingers trail up her hips, over her breasts. I break from the kiss to press my lips against her hard nipple. Her head falls against my shoulder and she lets out a muffled moan, moving her hand faster against me, gripping me harder. I buck into her, and let my tongue flick over her nipple, sucking briefly as she pumps me harder.

Her thumb swipes across the top of my cock, and I gasp. "_Fuck_, Santana. That feels … So … Fucking _… good._" I gasp, shoving myself against her hand.

She pulls back with a teasing smile on her lips. Oh she looks so _beautiful, _standing there under the pouring water, naked and smiling. "We wouldn't want you coming early, now would we?" The smirk that dances across her lips is just like Santana.

The old Santana. The girl I've missed so much.

In that moment, I want to throw her against the wall and fuck her stupid. I want her writhing underneath me, screaming my name, panting as I slide in and out, and … _Jesus._ My mouth is dry, and Santana takes her hand away from my aching cock.

Instead of groaning at the absence, I pull her back to me with a sly smile and kiss her hungrily. One hand squeezes her breast, tweaking her nipple – I relish the feeling of her shuddering against my body, while the other trails down her bare stomach. She gasps a little as my fingers slip into her wet folds – time to repay the favour.

Her teeth graze my lips, leaving playful little nips as I begin rubbing her gently. The shower continues to run freely, and her body is slick. Everything is so … _wet. _I smile against her kiss as my fingers brush against her clit, and her back arches up as she clings to me.

I slide one finger inside her, tickling her softly. She groans, and buries her face into my neck, running her free hand through my wet hair. The ache between my legs is unbearable, but I concentrate on the desperate sounds fluttering from Santana's lips as I begin sliding my finger in and out of her as my thumb rubs against her clit. Her hands are warm as they grip me tighter, and she slumps against me as I stroke her faster. I'm unconsciously thrusting my hips against her as I finger her, desperate for the friction she was giving me earlier.

"_Oh god Blaine,_" She groans. I lean down to kiss her, sucking her bottom lip and taking it in between my teeth before pulling away slightly. By now, I am fully supporting her body weight and with this level of arousal throbbing through me and the heat of this shower, I don't know how much longer I can hold her for.

"Let's take this to the bedroom," I gasp.

* * *

><p>"I want you to fuck me," Santana is gasping as we fall back onto my unmade bed. We are both still dripping wet and naked from the shower. Santana's skin is soft and <em>everywhere.<em>

I prop myself above her, smiling as I kiss her softly. "This won't be just fucking," I whisper shakily. "I'm going to make love to you baby."

A slight blush colours my cheeks and my brain screams at me for saying that corny shit, but Santana is smiling hugely, trailing her fingers down my shoulders. It takes all the self-control I have left not to just start thrusting into her. My cock is aching, and now that we are out of the shower, I can see the glistening skin just below my own hips.

_Oh god, I want her. _

Santana reaches between us, to stroke me. My head falls into her neck into a mixture of exhaustion and arousal, and I kiss the soft skin there. She pulls her hand away again, to trail it back up my spine and I buck at its absence as she teases me. She's smiling smugly, so I decide to take matters in my own hands.

I pull away from her kiss, and lower my body down the bed, until my lips are resting against her inner thigh. She's smiling down at me, and I let my tongue trail between the fork in her legs. She shudders against me, and I grip her hips, swiping my tongue against her clit. She's wet – wetter than she's ever been, and she groans loudly as soon as my tongue comes into contact with her. If she can tease me, then I can do the same.

Her fingers trail through my drying hair, and I suck lightly on her clit, causing her to buck up against my mouth.

"_Harder_," She moans, grinding against my mouth. I laugh a little, and her body jerks at the vibrations. My tongue is circling her clit, and I slide my finger inside of her, nowhere near deep enough to bring on the orgasm her body is craving, though.

My cock is throbbing, and I know I'm not going to be able to tease her much longer. I thrust slightly against the bed as I continue licking Santana's folds, trying to ease some of the pressure in my own lower region.

"_Blaine_," Her voice catches as I dip my tongue inside of her. "I want you inside of me _now._"

And that's all it takes. I can't wait and longer – I need to _feel _her. With one last swipe of my tongue, I move my face up to hers again, kissing her hungrily. At the taste of herself in my mouth, she groans loudly. Our bodies are rubbing together: nipples on nipples, hips on hips, groin on groin … Oh _fuck. _The ultimate friction: I'm sliding against her wet slit, teasing her clit with the head of my cock. She's writhing against me, letting out panting breaths. "_Blaine … _"

With one last kiss, I slide into her, yelling out as her tightness engulfs me. I'm harder than I've ever been, and I control the urge not to come already as I slip into her. She's _wet_, and hot, and tight, and …

"Oh god," I moan into her neck. For a moment, we are frozen. My chest is heaving, and Santana's fingernails are digging into my shoulders. She twitches slightly as I slide out of her, and back into her wetness.

I thrust hard into her, once, twice. Her hot walls contract around my throbbing length, and I bite down hard onto my lip. Never have I _ever _experienced this feeling. This … Fulfilment. She's around me, everywhere.

Santana moans, and I thrust into her again. I reach down between us, and begin rubbing her clit in circular motions as we move in a regular rhythm. I angle my hips, and slip deeper into her. Her back arches and she lets out a satisfied yell.

"Jesus Blaine, there! Oh ... _harder_!" Her hips buck up to meet mine, and I move in and out of her as our hips slam together. The pressure is burning in my stomach, and it takes everything I have not to come straight away. I know that we won't last long. She scrapes her fingers down my back, her fingernails digging into my skin as I thrust against her. I bite at her neck and she lets out another yell.

_Oh dear god._

"I'm … So … Close," I gasp, rubbing her clit harder. She moans in response, and I push hard against her again, and again, and again.

Our bodies move together, and I thrust harder, moaning every time I slide against her wet walls. Her knees begin to quiver underneath me, and I rub her faster, desperately seeking out her impending orgasm. She screams my name, and I feel her walls contract against me. I groan loudly as her body strains against my own. My fingers slip over her wet clit as I thrust into her, and she yells out. I grind hard against her, slamming our bodies together once, twice, three times.

"_YES!" _Her climax rips through her, and she pushes hard against me, tightening around my cock, gripping my shoulders.

I reach my own orgasm, as I thrust into her tightness again and again. _Fuck yes. _I quiver, before spilling into her, and filling her up. Her hips buck up, and I meet them with my own downward thrust. She pulls desperately at my hair before pulling me closer and smashing our lips together. I slide in and out of her lazily, milking out every last drop, panting loudly before collapsing against her, resting my lips against her neck.

For a long time, we lay there twitching as the aftershocks of our orgasms ripple through us. My heart is thudding in my chest, and my fingers trail along Santana's hips. She leans over to kiss me sleepily, letting her tongue slip into my mouth for just a second.

"So that was your first time?" She asks a little breathlessly. Her eyebrow is cocked as if she doesn't quite believe it.

"Yeah," I murmur, before kissing her again.

She pulls away, and takes my face in her hands. "And … How was it? Was it what you expected?"

I grin at her. "_Better_," I murmur. "Much better."


	30. Like a Dream

**A/N: I fail at updating. I really do. I'm sorry. But I'm working on a huge Faberry story - not to mention school, and some other stuff. Anyway, that's no excuse really. But wow. This is the last chapter. I'll make it extra-long, and I hope you enjoy it! Put me on author alert and keep an eye out for my Faberry story … Maybe. If I ever post it! Okay, enjoy! Thanks for sticking with me through this whole story! The song is 'Just Like Heaven' by The Cure. **

**And sorry, again! Hope you enjoy!(;**

* * *

><p>"Santana," I growl, hooking my fingers through the belt that cinches her dress, and biting at the exposed skin on her neck.<p>

"Blaine!" She hisses, whirling around. "Baby, you're not meant to be here, I have class in half an hour."

"I can be done in fifteen minutes," I murmur, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into a slow kiss.

"_Blaine_," She pulls away, eyes wide. "This is a library. A _public place_. There are people around. Besides, Miss Campbell wants me to do this thing for her, and - "

I cut her off by pressing my lips against hers, but she pulls away with a smirk. I just grin and let my hand trail down her hip, before my fingers twine through hers. "Come on then."

I pull her away from the table, and down to the Non-Fiction section. She's laughing quietly to herself. "You're kidding me right?" She smiles, as I let my arms curl around her waist. "I saw you this morning. And I'll see you tonight."

"The shop's still closed til tomorrow night," I whine, "And home is so boring without you, and our bed is _so_ empty."

Santana pulls away, eyebrows raised. "Huh."

"What is it?" I ask worriedly.

"You said 'home.' And 'our bed,'" She says slowly.

"I did … " I say carefully.

Her face breaks into a grin, and her teeth graze over her bottom lip in a way that sends all my blood rushing down south. "I like the sound of that," She breathes.

"Oh really?" I chuckle, pushing her against a bookshelf. "How much do you like it?"

She looks around before quickly letting her lips brush against mine. I can sense that she intends for the kiss to only be a peck, but I pull her in. I can pinpoint the moment when she falls into the kiss. Her body relaxes, and I push her harder into the bookshelf. Our bodies just _fit_. So well. So perfectly.

I slip my tongue in her mouth, duelling with hers for a moment. Her mouth tastes of that bubblegum she chews after her music classes, and I can feel her smiling against my mouth. My right hand trails along her hip, settling just behind her back, while my left snakes up behind her neck. It's hot today, so she's wearing that floral dress that is dangerously short; her bare legs are spread slightly, and seem to fit between my jean-covered legs.

I begin rubbing circles in her back, pulling her dress up, ever so slightly. She giggles against my lips, but doesn't yet make an attempt to stop me. I push her further into the bookshelf, kissing her hungrily, and not even bothering to check if people are around. Our hips are grinding together, and I only have one thought on my mind right now.

Her tongue is tracing circles around my own, sending shivers rushing down my fingertips, my spine, my toes. I shiver, as her hand slips under my grey shirt. I'm already semi-hard, and I'm sure she can feel me pressing against her. She pulls away, a coy smile dancing on her lips. "Now, Blaine Anderson, I'm sure the librarian would be appalled to see you kissing me like that."

I growl, nipping the skin on her collarbone. "I don't even care, baby. I just want to be inside of you."

"Oh," She arches an eyebrow, and her smile widens.

I take the plunge, and slip both hands under the hem of her dress. Immediately, my fingers find the waistband of her underwear, and I cup her from behind.

She lets out a loud giggle, pulling away from my desperate grasp. "_Blaine_! Stop! Anyone could see! I have classmates here, _teachers_!"

"But isn't that half the fun?" I whisper against her ear. "Don't you just love the risk? Doesn't it just," My fingers glide around to the front of her waistband, and I slip a hand inside her underwear. "_turn you on_?"

She gasps as my fingers brush against her clit, her eyes darkening immediately. I kiss her roughly, grinding against her, as my fingers slide against her wet folds. I'm fully hard now, and _oh god_, I want her. Ever since we had sex, all I can think about is her. And the way she looked at me as I slid into her. The way she met my every thrust eagerly. The way her body was shaking under mine, and the way she screamed when she came. _Oh god. _

"Blaine … " She pants, "Blaine, I - "

"Shhh," I kiss her again, circling her clit teasingly. My body is pressed against hers, so no one could really see what was going on if they did happen to walk by. I pull away, scan the section quickly, before diving into the kiss again. She's already moving against my fingers, silently urging me to move harder.

"_Santana_?"

I jump back immediately, throwing myself away from Santana. My heart pounds as I whirl around, searching for the person that spoke. Santana's eyes are wide for a moment, but soon after her face breaks into a relieved smile when she realizes we're still alone in the aisle. The person is speaking from the other side of the bookshelf. "Miss Campbell, I'm over here, in the Non-Fiction section, I'll get that book you wanted and be right over." Her voice is a tad higher than usual, and she takes a moment to regain her breath.

I grin at her, running a hand through my hair, and sighing loudly. Sure, I'm glad that we weren't caught, but that's doing nothing for the raging hard-on I'm sporting right now.

"That was close," I whisper, wrapping her into a tight hug.

She pulls away, grinning. "Well, that's what you get for being impatient. Looks like you'll have to deal with _this_," My breath hitches as she palms me through my jeans. "All by yourself. Now excuse me, I have to go to class. I'll see you tonight."

* * *

><p>I'm more than tempted to lock myself in a toilet cubicle, and take care of my little 'problem,' but I force myself to walk home. If I'm still hot and bothered by the time I get home, well ... I'll take care of it then.<p>

I walk out of the library, subtly trying to disguise the distinct bulge in my jeans. Thankfully, no one is paying much attention to me. People hurry along to class, and I smile as I watch them go. This is a beautiful campus, and I'm glad Santana's here. And, she's happy … I think. She's doing what she loves: music, and learning. In the past week I've learnt a lot about Santana, a lot about myself. Of course, there's the obvious: sex. We haven't done it since that night – and it's only been a week – but still, it's constantly on my mind. I can't stop thinking, remembering, fantasizing about her …

_Oh. _I duck my head as I walk out of the college campus, adjusting my jeans. These thoughts are most definitely helping with my current … _excitement. _The walk home isn't long, and I quickly force all thoughts of Santana from my mind. _Wait until you're not in public, Blaine. Jeez. _

Home couldn't come quick enough. Santana's class goes for three hours, and then she'll be home. It's Friday afternoon, and I only have to go into work tomorrow night for the opening of our new Musical Book Shop. Even then, I'm hoping Santana will come in with me. I just … I'm not used to this feelings. It's like … The sex – _oh_, the sex – was the glue. We're together now, and I only ever want to be around her.

Everything's still the same – the apartment, my bedroom, her bedroom … But it _feels _different now. Like I said in the library, it feels like home. I'm home.

I look around the empty lounge room, contemplating the throbbing in my jeans. I'm still aroused by our little encounter in the library, of course. Hugely turned on. I wasn't lying when I said the risk of getting caught is a turn on. I begin unbuttoning my jeans, moaning softly at the lightest touch, but then I stop myself.

I could wait.

I could wait for Santana. It's only three hours, and no doubt she's still hot and bothered. I could make it the best sex of her life. I grin, and fix my jeans with a sigh.

Now I just have to find a way to stay distracted for three hours.

* * *

><p>Three hours later, and I'm sitting on the couch. My knee is bouncing up and down impatiently. I'm not hard anymore, but I'm impatient. I just <em>want <em>her. We've barely seen each other all week, and that session in the library was just such a tease. I just can't –

"Blaine?" My brain goes into autopilot. I jump off the couch, and within seconds, my arms are around Santana's waist. She chuckles quietly, before pressing her lips just softly against mine. "I missed you," She whispers.

"I missed you more," I smile, brushing some of her hair away from her face. "I love you, Santana Lopez."

"I … I love you too, Blaine."

* * *

><p>"Oh god, <em>Blaine<em>."

I push Santana down onto the bed, kissing her hard. All my previous frustration is building up again, so much quicker this time. Already, my fingers are working swiftly on the buttons on her dress, and she's dragging my shirt over my shoulders. I trail my fingers along her collarbone, and down the curve of her breasts, across the tanned skin that's taunt across her stomach. She lies beneath me in nothing but her underwear and that black bra I've come to love so much.

"Hey Blaine?" She mumbles, as I begin trailing kisses down her stomach, "Blaine? Come back up here." She pulls my face gently up to meet her lips. "I have a question."

I roll over onto my side, stroking her thigh gently. "Ask away, baby."

"I … Um," And then the impossible happens. My mouth drops and my eyes widen. Santana Lopez blushes. She looks _embarrassed. _I raise an eyebrow, amused. "Well, ah, it's something I really want to … um, try?"

"What is it?" I ask, teasing the tanned skin on the inside of her thigh.

"Well," She avoids my eyes, "Do you remember that night … After I first moved in … And you walked in on me … And I was on the phone to Brittany?"

I grin. I happen to remember that night _very _well. It was by far one of the most erotic things I've ever seen in my life. "Yes, yes, I do remember."

"Well I was wondering if … While you were," She nods down at where my fingers are toying with her underwear. "While you were doing _that_, you could ... " Finally she meets my eyes, and I notice hers have darkened considerably. "Maybe you could … Touch yourself?"

Silence falls between us, and I let out the breath I'd been holding. "Oh Santana … "

"You don't have to if you don't want to!" She says quickly. "I just remember how you looked at me when you walked in on me that night, and I think … " She takes a deep breath. "I think it would really, _really_, turn me on if you did."

I groan as I feel myself harden. She doesn't understand how much I _like _this idea. "Okay," I press my lips against hers. "Okay, I'll do it."

She rids me of my jeans within minutes, and – after a few minutes of desperate fumbling, pausing only to plant haste kisses on each other's lips – we are naked, and breathing hard. Her fingers twine through my hair, as she pulls me into a deeper kiss, wrapping her legs around me. Our bodies press together, and I kiss my way across her skin, inch by inch. My tongue swipes across her right nipple, and she gasps, bucking against me. I linger on her breasts for a while, teasing her with my tongue, my lips, my teeth, before regaining my path down her bare stomach.

Even as I make my way down her body, I can feel my desperation coming back from before, and it's stronger than ever. I want her _so _bad. I position myself above her, eyeing her curiously, judging her reaction as I wrap my free hand around my throbbing cock. _Oh god. _Her eyes widen, as they lock onto my hand. I squeeze myself tightly, letting my own eyes flutter closed for a second, as I thrust once into my hand, just to ease the tension.

"That is _so _hot," She pants.

Throwing caution to the wind, I lower my head between her legs, and drag my tongue up the length of her slit. Her body tenses against me immediately, and I grip myself tighter. _I want to be inside her … _Santana is already wet, and I let my tongue circle her clit for a moment, teasing her. I hazard a guess that she's been horny like this all afternoon.

"Oh god, _yes_," She moans, as I suck lightly on her clit. I begin rubbing myself harder, making sure she can see just how hard I am. It takes everything I have not to begin convulsing against my hand straight away.

She looks down hungrily, licking her lips. Her chest is heaving, and I can't help but appreciate the view, all the while stroking her clit with my tongue. "Okay," She gasps, "Stop." My head snaps up, and – as much as it kills me – I take my hand off myself. I want to groan at the absence, but when someone says stop, I stop. "It's my turn," She smiles, looking amused.

She takes a hold of my shoulders, and gently pushes me down onto the bed, straddling me. For a moment, she leans down to kiss me, slipping her tongue inside my mouth teasingly. I buck up against her, but she pulls away grinning.

I watch her curiously as she traces kisses quickly down my body, before her lips find the end of my cock. My head falls back, and I groan in earnest.

"Fuck," I mutter, as her tongue trails all the way up my length. Her fingers are tightly gripping me tightly against the bed, and suddenly her mouth is around my cock. "_Shit._"

She launches into it, skipping the teasing. She sucks _hard_. I buck against her, as the throbbing increases. I want her _so _bad. I want her more than I've wanted anything ever. More than I need air. Her tongue stroking my length, lingering in all the right places, while her free hand rubs me hard. I'm just about to warn her that I'm coming, when she pulls away with dark eyes. "God, are you _trying _to kill me?" I gasp.

She smiles, but is too breathless to really say anything because now, she is kissing my neck, and suddenly she his sliding onto my cock. I gasp at the sudden tightness, and Santana's head falls onto my chest. On instinct, I thrust into her, _hard_. She screams out, and her hand flies between us as she begins rubbing her clit furiously. "I can't wait anymore," She gasps, gyrating her hips against me. "I'm going to … Oh. _Ohhh._"

She grips my shoulders, slamming me down as she rides me. I can feel myself losing control, nearing the edge. I thrust into her again and again, falling into the feeling of her walls tightening around me, the way her whole body is shuddering against me, the desperate moans fluttering out of her mouth, and I come, harder than I have in my entire life.

"_Fuck_, oh Blaine. I love you!" Our lips crash together, and together we fall off the edge.

And the moment is perfect.

* * *

><p>"<em>Show me how you do that trick, the one that makes me <em>scream_ … She said_."

I rest my hands on the front counter, watching Santana in amazement. Her eyes are locked on mine as she sings, her mouth quirked up in a cheeky smile. The shop is full. People stand around, watching Santana sing, or browsing the books at the back. It's busier than we've ever been, and already, we're making sales. I can't help but stare though, as Santana sings. She's mesmerising.

Magnificent.

"_Show me how you do it … And I promise you, I'll promise that … I'll run away with you._" Her hands clutch the microphone, and she sings sounding happier than she has in a long time. I'm not at all surprised that Jackson – my manager – asked her to sing for opening night. I am surprised, however, that San kept it a secret without telling me. No matter what, though, it's beautiful, and I couldn't have asked for a better way to spend my Saturday night.

"_Spinning on that dizzy edge, I kissed her face, and kissed her her head … " _I look around at the captivated audience that surrounds Santana. She loves the attention, I can see it in the glow in her eyes. I watch the people's expressions as she sings, they are captivated. Fascinated.

Near the back of the shop, Brittany lingers. I know Santana has noticed, but she doesn't look upset, or even nervous. She still looks happier than ever. Brittany is hugging a tall guy, and I can't help but notice the distinct swell of her stomach. It makes me think how things have changed over the past six months … What a scary thought.

"_Why are you so far away? She said … Why won't you ever see that I'm in love with you? … I'm in love with you." _

The door swings open, and another group of people bustle into the shop, eyeing the transformations curiously. It's an interesting concept, I guess: a book shop that has live music. My eyes lock onto a particular pair. They are clutching hands and laughing loudly.

It's Kurt. And Karofsky.

I stare at them, and they stare back, still smiling. For a moment, everything seems to fade away. Santana singing, the people waiting in line to purchase books, even Karofsky fades away … Kurt just offers me a smile, and I return it. A former love and a peace offering.

_It's still there, you know_, I tell myself, _the love._

"_Dancing in the deepest oceans, twisting in the water, you're just like a dream." _

* * *

><p><strong>The End.<strong>


End file.
